Some information, please
by FiveMetersOfPrussia
Summary: In which there are protective older siblings, cock blocked romances, and the unanswered question; who is Ralph in love with? Roger pines after Simon, who's in love with Jack, who wants Ralph.  Eventual Jack/Simon and Roger/Ralph
1. Why I love you

Summary: In which everyone wants to know who has a crush on who.

A/N: This is a thing that I did.

Warnings: Shameless fluff, love complications, very AU, and probably more than a little out of context characters, as well as their family figures.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies.

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><p>It was just another day of school, in which teachers droned, and the awful ticking of the clock as seconds drug by painfully slowly drove Jack insane. It was as if each <em>tic<em> the clock made drove a nail into his cranium, forcing a pounding headache to throb endlessly. He'd long since given up on sitting upright, instead opting to sprawl out on top of his desk lazily, face down, eyes closed. Beside him perched Roger, who had been doodling god only _knows_ what in his note book for the better part of thirty minutes. Though, if one followed his gaze, it wasn't too hard to fathom a guess... Simon, the unaware model of this current drawing, was talking to Ralph animatedly, laughter and grins never leaving him. Everyone was tired from the combination of a long day, and the thick heat, and everyone had given up on paying attention. Hell, the teachers had even given up on trying to force them to pay attention, so it was a good day! But, as it was their free period, Jack had taken the liberty of falling asleep.

Well... At least it had seemed so, until the door slammed open. Jack nearly shot out of his skin, Roger glared, and Simon looked like a deer in the headlights. Ralph, on the other hand looked towards the door and sighed heavily, burying his face in his hands in embarrassment. It was his brother... _Older_ brother, to be exact. Nathan looked a lot like Ralph; tall, fair hair, grey eyes... However, Nathan was a whole hell of a lot stronger than his darling baby brother, a fact that Ralph was painfully aware of. And if anyone was even mildly paying attention, the glower that swept across the room in a silent search virtually screamed _homicide!_ Not that he'd kill _really _anyone, of course... It just meant that Ralph was in a _lot_ of trouble.

Or Nathan was trying to look out for him again.

Ralph groaned at the thought and tried desperately to slide under his desk and hide, but it was too late. Nathan had found him. The taller blonde stormed over to Ralph's desk and glowered at the embarrassed boy and folded his arms across his chest. Simon gave an empathetic smile, but sat quietly, honestly a little afraid of Nathan. He was in one of his scary moods again... Jack glowered, and Roger sighed and went back to drawing, ultimately leaving Ralph to fend for himself as his brother stared him down mercilessly. Ralph could've sworn it was a good two minutes before Nathan actually _said_ anything, apparently trying to convey his message subliminally. Ralph couldn't take it. "What?" he snapped, looking somewhat like a scared rabbit. For a second Nathan was quiet, his glower turning into a wicked grin that could only mean one thing... "So, I heard that my baby brother has a crush?"

If everyone hadn't been paying attention before, now they were all ears and more attentive than they had ever been during the entire school year. The blush that covered Ralph's face made Jack's hair look pink in comparison, and he wished that he could just crawl into a hole and die. There had been a collective gasp from the room, which was only made worse as everyone eyed him curiously as if here were a particularly interesting plaything. "So what?" Ralph mumbled, glaring at Nathan.

"So what? So, who _is _it?" Nathan snorted.

Jack, despite his already established dislike of Nathan, turned to Ralph curiously. Not because he was interested, or anything, but... Well, because Ralph looked as if he were trying to decide between running away or trying to sink through the cracks in the floor. He really did want to know... For his own reasons, of course.

"Like I would ever tell you!" Ralph snapped, a glare similar to Nathan's previous one settling onto his features.

"Aww, c'mon! You can tell me! Unless they're in the room?"

Ralph's eyes widened in horror and - if it was possible - turned a darker shade of red. How did he know? _Why _did he know? Ralph looked at his brother and his stomach tightened in a sickening knot. He already knew who it was... Now he just wanted to confirm it. Jack nearly bit through his tongue in an urge to suppress his excited grin, blessedly going unnoticed by Nathan. "Oh, my! Well, say no more!" Nathan laughed, watching as Ralph slid out of the desk and bolted out the door. Jack and Simon exchanged a look before they followed - but not before Jack punched Nathan a few times - and Roger simply followed because he didn't want to get stuck with Nathan. It wasn't entirely uncommon for Nathan to do something like this, so there were a series of hidey-holes that had become Ralph's favorite spots to go and curl up in shame when it happened. So, with the fully prepared search and rescue mission routes already memorized, they each set out to go and find their blushing blonde.

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><p>AN: Thank you for reading! Leave me a review and lemmie know what you thought?


	2. The search and rescue mission

The search and rescue mission

Chapter summary: In which Roger finds Ralph, Jack's love is preached about by Simon and Roger, and Simon gets that 'uh oh' feeling.

Warnings: Roger's shameless prophanities, the abuse of generic 'prince charming' moments, and a side of fluff.

A/N: Here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies, because this is a fan fiction, so please do not sue me.

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><p>Ralph had no intention of talking to anyone if he could help it, because… Well, because he just couldn't face it. "Damnit, Nathan…" he hissed under his breath, ever so expertly working his way into a new hidey hole that would take anyone hours to find. He'd found it not too long ago… A safe little nook in a mostly abandoned hallway of the old school. It was a small room with dusty books, sheets, chairs, and god only knew what else… Essentially a muck room. But if it bothered Ralph any, he didn't show it. He simply took it all in with as much of a smile as he could manage, and crawled into a small, safe hole under the massive piles of discarded items, and pulled his knees up to his chest. Sometimes he really hated Nathan… "God, that was embarrassing!" Ralph said, locking his arms around his legs as he buried his face in his knees.<p>

In theory, Nathan meant well, but…. Ralph would _really_ rather that he didn't try and be all big brotherly towards him anywhere near a public place. Or at all, actually, but that would be asking too much. Although, it seemed that simply asking him _not_ to indulge in public embarrassment was also asking too much, so it was a rather moot point. With a sigh, Ralph turned his head and set his cheek against his knee cap and let one arm fall to his side. Idly he let his fingers roam across the ground, imagining little pictures in his head that he would be tracing into the cold concrete beneath him. "The only reason he did it was because he doesn't like Roger…" he mumbled to himself bitterly, frowning deeply. At the thought of Roger, his once sun burnt looking skin flushed red once more, and a horrified expression crossed his face. He didn't even _want_ to know what Roger had thought of it all…

Or didn't think of it. Despite Roger being the quiet, scary type, Ralph could see the thickly hidden yearning for affections. Besides, with the way he was always drawing Simon, it hadn't honestly been all that hard to figure out. He could still remember the awkward silence that had descended on the group that morning when he'd asked Roger about it. The stormy boy had stiffened and glared at Ralph, but said nothing as he'd abandoned his sketching for the day. Not much had been said, and they had all silently vowed never to bring it up again. It was like Jack's strange affinity for kittens; no one talked about it, but they knew what to do as an _oh-please-I-am-sorry-now-just-forgive-me_ last resort. Okay, they weren't really the same, but… That was beside the point! The fact was that no one brought it up, but everyone remembered.

As Ralph was lost in his musings of kittens, sketch books, and anything but what has just transpired, Roger, Jack and Simon were all hard at work looking for their missing blonde. They'd long since worked out a route for which places to check first so that, if the tried and true hidey holes failed them, they could all meet back in one place and collaboratively go, _"What the hell?"_ Well, except for Simon, who was usually more on the side of nervous and _"Oh, sweet Jesus, where did Ralph go?"_ To which Jack's only response would ultimately be, _"You two head back to class, I'll go find him."_

"Like hell you will." Roger snorted, rolling his eyes.

Naturally, Simon protested as well. "Jack, as much as the help is appreciated, I don't think it's gonna make Ralph feel any better if you molest him." the short choir boy said matter-of-factly.

Roger laughed - a god awful sound which was a mixture of nails on a chalk board, the screams of the innocent, and lung cancer - and Jack had the decency to blush. "I wasn't planning on it, Simon." the redhead ground out bitterly.

"Could've fooled me."

"Oh, yeah? And why's that?"

"Well, it's basically rape with the way you pine after him like that, isn't it?" Roger interjected.

It was Simon's turn to laugh, as the two ganged up on Jack, causing his face to rival his hair. "If you were a little more subtle, you might have better luck, Jack!" Simon grinned. "Or you could stop trying to stare holes into his head all the time. Either would work swimmingly." And so, it was on that note that they split up once again, Roger and Simon laughing away as the sexually frustrated redhead stormed off in search of their damsel in distress.

This, however, proved to be a most discouraging task, as there was neither hide nor hair of Ralph to be seen after two hours. Now, normally it only took them a good _half_ hour to find Ralph's new hidey holes, but this was just **ridiculous**. For the third time that day, they met in the collaborative '"What the hell?" spot, and voiced their concerns at the disappearance of their friend. "How much ya wanna bet he locked himself out on the roof again?" Roger mused, sprawled out on the floor as he stared up at the ceiling. "Hmm… Maybe, But not likely. I think the principal took the keys." Simon sighed, also perched on the floor and leaning back on his hands. Jack was the only one left standing - pacing, to be exact - and he sighed heavily, folding his arms across his chest. "Guys, come on, we've never had this much trouble finding him!" Jack snapped, frowning deeply.

"What about the time he locked himself in the attic?" Simon interjected.

"Or the time he got stuck in that elevator?" Roger sighed.

"Or when he hid under Roger's bed?"

"Can't forget about the time he hid in Jack's closet, though… Poor kid was traumatized for weeks."

Jack glared at them, and sighed in frustration. "Okay, so we're not the best detectives, but we can't possibly be this bad!" the redhead protested. Simon bit his lip, but nodded all the same. "So, where do you suggest we go next?" he asked. At the mention of any sort of movement what so ever, Roger groaned and scowled up at the ceiling. "Maybe we should just leave him where ever it is that he'd holed up. He obviously wants to be left alone." Roger suggested. Jack and Simon looked as if they were going to hit him. "Oh, come on, you can't honestly tell me that you would want to be pestered after Nathan barged in and did that to _you_." Roger pointed out. Jack snorted in indignation.

"I wouldn't have run off-"

"Yes you would have, Jack." Simon said matter-of-factly. Jack glowered at Simon, who only raised an eyebrow in return as if to dare him to disagree with him. Even if he had put up a fight about it, they all knew that Simon was right, because if Jack had been Nathan's target, he would have preached about Jack's love for his baby brother. They would have been lucky if they ever found Ralph again if that happened. Well, again, at any rate. Once upon a time, in grade school, Nathan had caught a puppy-love crush and effectively nipped it in the butt, via ranting about the undying love that the poor victim had on Ralph.

Needless to say, it took several hours for their father to convince the boy to stop packing his belongings in an attempt to run away.

"Well, I wouldn't have been so damn hard to find." Jack said and promptly took up residence leaning against the wall. "Come to think of it, with the way you drool over Ralph all the time, I'm a bit surprised that Nathan hasn't noticed yet." Simon said, eyes wide with the sudden realization. This was unspeakable! And very, very frightening. Whatever Nathan had up his sleeve, nobody wanted anything to do with it. "Maybe he was too busy trying to figure out who's become the object of Ralph's affections?" Roger smirked.

At this, a silly grin plastered itself across Jack's face and both Simon and Roger groaned and rolled their eyes simultaneously. "God, it's like we can't even say his bloody name anymore without your brain going all stupid!" Roger snapped, scowling at Jack. Simon laughed, but knew very well that Roger had every right to be moody. After all, how many times had Jack subjected him to "Oh, Ralphy," this and "But I love him so much," that, to all of which Roger begrudgingly listened. He wouldn't have been so cruel as to inflict the poor love struck bastard upon Simon.

"Well, we have to go find him sometime." Simon said quickly before Jack could retort.

Had Ralph been paying attention to the passing of the time, he would have left the confines of this safe space long ago, so as not to worry the other's too much… But it had been so comfortable and warm and quiet that, well, he couldn't help but fall asleep. He'd stayed in the same little nook of junk that he'd found and curled up on his side, with his arm as a pillow. It took him a while to drift off, however, but once he did he slept like the dead. The searching drug on for another hour before there was a slight rustling as the door to the room opened slowly. Stormy green eyes flickered around the dusty room for a moment, before settling on the minor disturbances of the ancient dirt. "Hmm… Maybe not." Roger mumbled, turning to head out of the room once more when a soft whimper pieced the air.

Roger sighed and closed the door behind him before he set to trying to navigate his way through all the junk that the school staff had placed in it. More than once he got stuck, and more than once he had to backtrack, but eventually he managed to find the little nook that Ralph had stuffed himself into. However, he was also presented with two problems; waking him up and getting him out. Firstly, the wake up call was never a pleasant thing, because Ralph had this paranoia, which usually cause him to wound the person waking him up. Jack had forgotten this a few times, and as a result, Ralph had - on several occasions - broken his nose. The getting him out part wasn't looking like it would be much better, honestly, with the small space he'd crawled into. Roger was honestly surprised that he could even fit in there in the first place.

Innuendos aside, Roger sighed warily before leaning forward and gingerly shaking the sleepy, swingy blonde's shoulder. As if on que, Ralph startled and sat up, looking as if he were going to beat the living daylights out of whatever it was that- Oh, it was just Roger. "Uhh… Hi." was all Ralph could manage, still a bit spooked from being woken up. Damnit, Nathan! Roger raised an eyebrow in question, but remained silent for a moment, taking in the sleepy, twitchy, frightened mess in front of him. "That rough, huh?" Roger sighed, sitting down outside of the small nook. Ralph grimaced and nodded slowly, pulling his knees up to his chest once again. "I hate how he decides he can just go around announcing things like that to everyone…" Ralph sighed, resting his cheek against his knee caps.

Roger laughed quietly and nodded in agreement, knowing something akin to the wrath of (1). "At least he didn't go and blurt out who it was." Roger pointed out. Oh, how he wished he hadn't done that. Ralph snorted and hid his face in his knees and mumbled something along the lines of, "He might as well have,". Either that, or he was requesting a ham, in which case, Roger was shit out of luck. "If he had it would have probably taken more than three hours to find you." Roger said. Again, he wished that he hadn't said that either. God, he was bad at this whole 'comfort' thing. Ralph looked up, mortified, and shook his head violently. "**Three hours?**" he snapped, turning back to Roger.

Why was it always him that got to deal with Ralph's PMSing? "Uh… Yes?" Wrong answer. Again. Ralph buried his face in his knees once more and - if the shuddering didn't give it away - gave into the water works. Fuck. "Ralph." Roger sighed. If it was scary waking Ralph up, calming him down was a different nightmare all on its own.

Simon was, undeniably, lost. Not a little, but so much that he'd completely forgotten which way he'd come from and which way he'd gone. "Uh oh…" he said, biting his lip before wandering to the window, and… He still didn't know where he was the never ending expanse of the school grounds, lush and green as ever, but no landmarks of any sort. Oh no… He was lost. In the school… In a creepy hallway… Alone. For a moment Simon stilled and took in a deep breath to calm himself, but a large sound of something crashing caused him to bolt down the hallway and away from the window at a breakneck speed. Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh!

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><p>AN: that's all for now! Thanks for reading~

Please review!

(1) I had to come up with a last name, it was driving me bonkers!


	3. That uh oh feeling

That uh oh feeling

Chapter summary: In which Roger kidnaps Ralph. (Sorry, guys, this is a really short chapter)

Warnings: Roger's laughter, Ralph's 'must-oggle-Roger's-ass' moments, and past and present moments of Jack getting his ass kicked. Oh, and swearing.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews everyone! I'm glad you all enjoy it so much~ Here's the nest chapter, I hope you like it! I apologize for it being so short, I'll have another one up speedy quick.

Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own Lord of the Flies.

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><p>It had only been five minutes, but already Roger was developing a headache. It always happened, because everyone else was fortunate enough to escape the truly, truly moody blonde's mood swings. Meanwhile, Roger was always abandoned with the job of cheering up their distressing damsel. It was going to drive him <strong>insane.<strong> "Ralph, it's nothing to worry about..." Roger sighed, rubbing his temples. "It took us longer than three hours to find you when you locked yourself out on the roof." he pointed out, heaving a sigh as he looked back at the hysteric blonde. Damnit, why was it always _him?_ Why couldn't it be Jack for once? After all, he was only crackers about the kid! Or Simon, even! Although, in retrospect, the last time they'd sent Simon out on 'go fix Ralph' duty all by his lonesome, they'd both ended up a sniveling mess. Though, it probably hadn't helped that they had already lost Ralph twice that week... But that wasn't important. What was important, was that Roger was feeling just a little too much like mommy.

Mommy or not, though, he couldn't just let Ralph sit there. So, it was with a strategy only earned after long hours of shooting an unaware Jack with rubber bands at _just_ the right angle, and a great deal of elbow grease that came from putting up with Ralph's shenanigans, that Roger finagled the sobbing boy out of his hidey hole. And directly into his lap. Roger frowned, Ralph turned scarlet, and all was silent for a moment as awkwardness fell upon them. Only when Ralph looked as if he were about to crawl back into his hole did Roger attack, dragging the blonde away from his vice. And for good measure, Roger went to the liberty of throwing Ralph over his shoulder, so that any escape attempts would land him flat on his face.

Ralph protested half heartedly, more than a little lost in the whole _'Ohmygod, he's carrying me!'_ sort of moment that would make anyone swoon. And also, for the fact that from this angle… He had the **perfect** view of Roger's ass. A faint blush colored Ralph's cheeks as he huffed, and folded his arms against Roger's back, but made no move to escape. "Just be glad it wasn't Jack that found you." Roger muttered, scowling as he navigated his way through the massive piles of clutter. It was only that much harder to do while carrying Ralph, but, y'know… No **big** _deal_ or anything. Normally, the blonde would've been on his own two feet, but he had a nasty habit of retreating back into whatever hole he'd just been pulled out of. Ralph shuddered and, expertly, unfolded his arms and wrapped them around Roger in an awkward hug. (Not that it wasn't awkward hugging Roger on regular terms _anyway_.) "That was horrifying." Ralph mumbled, blushing a little as his gaze wandered down to watch as Roger walked.

And indeed it had been. There had been only several occasions that - when they could not find Ralph - that Jack had been the first to locate the poor boy. It wasn't that bad, the majority of them… But the last time he had found him… Oh, sweet Jesus! Apparently they'd been searching for a grand total of seven hours, not only because Ralph had forgotten to eventually come out of his hiding space, but he'd fallen asleep as well. None the less, Ralph had been found at the bottom of Jack's closet, wrapped up in the choir cape as a blanket. It wasn't all that often that one stumbled upon Ralph sleeping - because he was very, very paranoid about being so vulnerable - but it was always so damn adorable to see him like that. He had the cutes sleepy face! Not that Jack thought that, or anything, but… It was just common knowledge. Erm… Well, maybe not common, per say… But lost in the sea of cuteness, Jack had forgotten Ralph's unspoken _do-not-touch-me-when-I-sleep-for-the-love-of-pandas rule_, and proceeded to go and pick up the snoozy blonde.

Which he deeply regretted all of three seconds later, as Ralph woke up and "flipped the hell out,", as Simon so eloquently put it. Ralph let out a muffled attempt at a war cry and, with no reservations, attacked the redhead like very, very pissed off lion. Or Simon before he's had his coffee. (Which was quite possibly the most terrifying thing any of them had ever encountered.) Needless to say, Jack had spent several hours getting stitched up and nursing sore bruises, as well as yet another broken nose. Ralph, on the other hand, did not sleep so much as a wink for the next week, which resulted in an intervention, where they simply had to knock him out for his own good.

"Still not quite sure who to feel sorry for." Roger laughed.

Ralph cringed an - because Roger was both very ticklish, and Ralph was the only one that ever got away with it - pressed his fingertips into the dark haired boy's sides and began tickling him mercilessly. Now, this was not always the best idea when Roger was dragging him out of hiding, as he often did, but it was always… Adorable. Ralph grinned as he felt Roger shake with laughter, trying desperately to capture the blonde's hands before he dropped him, as his laughter bounced off of the walls of the dusty room. "Should be me, obviously," Ralph laughed as his hands were captured at last. "I had a horrible time trying to sleep after that."

"Jack got sent to the hospital."

"It wasn't as if it was the first time he'd done it!" Ralph said defensively.

"This is true… But you did maul him."

"He was terrifying in a dark closet!"

"…I got nuthin'."

Ralph laughed, and as they were finally free of the clutter piles, was content to simply watch as Roger walked, making no move to protest as he was carried off. Or, as he liked to put it, rescued by his personal Prince Charming.

Simon had been running for a good five minutes before he finally stopped, feeling as if he were finally safe from whatever it was that had been about to attack him. He sighed and smiled a bit as he straightened up, and grinned cheekily. He was alright… He was alive! So, now that he was no loner in great peril of suddenly dropping dead, he continued on his search for Ralph. This was all fine and dandy until he opened one of the closet doors - as Ralph was prone to disappearing into them - and promptly screamed as he found some sort of something in there. Yes, there was the usual rubbish, but this was something that definitely did not belong in there. As it started to move out of the closet, Simon jumped backwards out of the way and in much the same way Ralph had done once upon a time, went batshit crazy.

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><p>AN: that's all for now! Thanks for reading~

Please review, and have a nice day!


	4. Batty for batshit crazy

Batty for batshit crazy

Chapter summary: In which Simon kicks Jack's ass with a mop and Nathan interrogates Jack.

Warnings: Erm... Jack is this fanfiction's bitch, Simon has violent tendencies when he's scared, and both are navigationally challenged.

A/N: Woooo! Another chapter! But this one is more Simon-Jack centric, because I've been a bit negligent, so they get one of their own.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies.

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><p>Simon had managed to jump out of the way of the <em>whatever<em> it was that was tumbling out of the closet - as well as the cleaning supplies - and stared stupidly at the unmoving body under the mass. Simon's breath hitched, and he stared wide eyed at the figure on the ground, torn between helping the poor bastard, or beating the shit out of it with that mop placed oh-so-conveniently to his left.

He opted for the mop.

As the figure shuffled a bit, Simon was lightening fast as he grabbed the mop and - with a hidden strength that would make Roger proud - brought the cleaning utensil savagely down upon the... The... Person. It went on like this for a few seconds, until the unidentified blob of pain simply lay on the ground and held very, very still. If only for the fact that Simon seemed to stop hitting him with that damned mop if he held still. But as Jack turned his head to the side to glower at Simon, he was quickly rewarded with a mouth full of dirty rag that had been God only knows where. "Simon-"

**Whack.**

"Simon."

**Whack, whack, whack.**

"Simon!"

**Bash.**

"SIMON!"

At this, Simon screamed, and bitch slapped Jack with the mop a few times, before Jack finally managed to catch the end of the bloody - literally and verbally - thing, and yanked it out of the screaming noirette's hands. However, this also resulted in pulling Simon forward and off his feet, where he landed heavily on Jack with an, 'Oomf!'. Jack sputtered for a few seconds, and coughed, but glared at Simon after he recovered, only to find the boy staring back at him. "Jack?"

"Nice of you to fuckin' notice, Simon." Jack grumbled.

"Erm... Why were you in the closet?"

There was a long silence, then, and Jack's eyes widened in horror as the memory came flooding back. It had been horrible!

"...Nathan."

Simon blinked, sat up, and pulled Jack into an awkward embrace, in which Jack's head was buried in his chest. "My poor baby!" Simon wailed, petting the ginger curls. Simon was half joking, half horrified, because he knew what might happen if Nathan were to go about sticking you in a closet. It really was horrible... And it took him for fucking ever to get all that gum out of his shoes! His parents had been furious, and had insisted that Nathan buy him new shoes... Which he did, however, nobody had been specific as to what shoes Nathan should buy. So, Nathan being the devious little fucker that he is, went and bought a pair of knee high boots with electric blue laces, that were simply too damn sexy for Simon to actually wear out in public.

But he'd absolutely loved them.

If only he could manage to sneak out of the house with them on without his parents noticing... Then life would be fabulous! Presently, Jack was trying to escape Simon's grip, but it seemed to be all in vain, because Simon wasn't even _paying attention_, in yet he had a grip of steel. In fact, Simon was so lost in la-la-land, that Jack wondered what he was thinking about, for there was a vibrant blush, and a sultry grin upon his lips. As Jack watched Simon for a minute, the only conclusion he could come up with for this behavior was...

**The boots.**

Ralph and Roger had both quickly dubbed them _the sexy shoes_, to which Simon gladly accepted, because they were damn attractive boots. Particularly on _him._ If they hadn't been so busy laughing about it all, Jack was sure that Roger would have gladly swooped in and taken Simon right then and there. Which was a scary thought, considering it was almost impossible for Jack to picture Roger in a romantic _anything._ But maybe that was just Jack. Or maybe it was the fact that Roger possessed the ability to make small children cry with a single glance now a days. They'd even tested it out because Jack hadn't believed Roger. Granted, they'd tested this on Simon's younger brother, and in his defense, the poor kid couldn't stand attention, but... Okay, so Jack still didn't believe him, because the Garrott's* were just a very shy people. Well, mostly, for it would seem that Simon was the only exception to this. (But only around Ralph, Roger and Jack) Despite his remembrance of the existence of _the sexy boots_, Jack needed to get out of this awkward position that Simon had him trapped in. So he did the only thing that he could think of that would snap Simon out of these thoughts...

He groped him.

Quite unceremoniously, to be frank.

To which Simon's response, as it always was, was to smack him across the face. Why was it always him? He was _always_ the one that got the special privilege of pulling Simon out of his kinky thoughts, and he was _always _the one that got smacked. Why? Well, he did grope him, but... There had been no other discovered way to break this midday kink. And how they had even discovered this method was not to be talked about, for it was both shameful and embarrassing on everyone's part. Though, Roger wasn't as guilty as the rest of them, for once, for he had simply been an innocent... He'd been a bystander in this situation, before he was pulled into the vortex of weird by default.

Guilty by association!

Jack sighed and grumbled as he rubbed his now sore cheek, and sat up properly, checking for any broken bone, loose teeth, or a minor concussion. Nothing, aside from lots of bruising and some bleeding here and there...

It was a good day for Jack Merridew.

Simon glared viciously at the redhead, almost looking like Roger for a second. He did an eerily good impression of the stormy _Prince Charming_ when livid. Or if he had somehow missed having his coffee. "Oi, will you quit channeling Roger already?" Jack sighed and pushed himself up into a standing position. Simon followed, but said nothing and continued to glower at the redhead as punishment for ruffling the proverbial feathers. Jack sighed again, and the two began to silently put the cleaning supplies back into the closet. Then, as it always did, the search for Ralph began once more and they continued on in an icy silence, and Jack was slowly loosing him mind.

He knew what Simon wanted, but... But Jack didn't want to! Simon had only just beaten the shit out of him with a mop! A fucking _mop!_ Who the hell gets beat up by an _epileptic kid _with a bloody **_mop__!_** Apparently, Jack Merridew, because only eccentric things of that particular caliber happened to him. But he knew how much Simon **hated** it when he did that... Jack bit down on his tongue to keep from groaning and stopped, turning to the short noirette behind him. As expected, Simon halted as well, and his gaze shifted to Jack silently. All the previous fire was gone, now replaced by an unusually icy anger. Damn. "Simon, about the whole groping business... I... Erm..." Jack began, fumbling uselessly.

"You _what_?" Simon asked calmly, folding his arms across his chest expectantly.

Damn, the kid could sure be a hard ass when he was pissed! It was a hell of a lot easier to try and make amends with Roger, because at least seventy percent of the time he would just stick you in intensive care. The other thirty percent was forced grovelling, among other things. At least you knew what to expect! With Simon, no one ever knew that the hell was going to happen. "I'm... Sorry." Jack said, looking away awkwardly.

And as if a bloody light switch came out of nowhere and flipped, Simon instantly brightened up and grinned. "I know you are!" he laughed, and smiled innocently. Jack just stared at him stupidly, and glowered. "You little-"

"Now, now, Jack, what would Ralph think of you doing harm to the poor boy?" Nathan purred, grinning wickedly as he looked at the two of them. Simon sighed, and Jack groaned, but such was the usual greeting for Nathan Kirkland. "What do you want, Nathan? You already stuck me in a closet once today." Jack grumbled. Nathan grinned impishly. "Nothing much, Jackie, really!" the blonde said.

Ohhhh, boy.

"I've just got a few questions, is all."

...**Shit**.

"So, Jackie, tell me... What is it exactly that you wanna do with Ralph?"

A silence descended over the three, in which Simon glowered, Jack turned scarlet, and Nathan grinned like a cat that had caught a particularly large bird. "...Why would I tell _you_?"

"Because I will have to eviscerate you if you think of doing those naughty, naughty things to my sweet little baby brother." Nathan smiled. It was the homicide smile. Oh, sweet Jesus, Jack was in trouble! Jack blinked stupidly and glanced over at Simon, who looked back at him, and a silent password sent out subliminally.

_Three..._

_Two..._

_One..._

**Shenanigans!**

Jack and Simon bolted, speeding down the hall like bats outta hell as Nathan chased after them, screaming profanities all the way. They twisted, turned, ducked, dodged, and hid in the most uncomfortable places until they had finally lost Nathan in the overly large school. It was never an easy feat, but they had had so much practice over the years that they were essentially experts at it. They shifted out of one spot, into yet another abandoned room - as the school was apparently full of them - and slid down the back of the door as they shut it quietly. At last... They were safe from that insane idiot, and in a relatively comfortable place to hide. Only problem was, they didn't know where the hell they were. Simon realized this first, and this drove in the last nail in what was his stress bar, and pushed it over the edge. The result was Simon lightly curling up against Jack so as to avoid any sort of painful landing should he fall over. Jack recognized this quickly and, with his free arm, wrapped Simon up in an awkward embrace.

Simon always liked it when Jack was around for this... It made him feel so much better about it, because he knew that he wouldn't just leave him there. And he would also be there when he woke up, because he knew how much it frightened Simon to wake up alone from the fainting spells. It comforted Simon to know that the object of his affections would be so thoughtlessly kind to him, and that was almost enough to make Simon happy. He just wished that it didn't have to be reserved to the times that he was about to faint... But he could work with what he got. It was with a sad smile that Simon let himself be shifted a bit and closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of Jack's heartbeat as his head rested against his chest. The sound and warmth quietly, softly lulled him and made it easier to slip into the nothingness.

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><p>AN: * I had to find a last name for Simon.

Thank you for reading, and to all the people who review!

I love getting to hear from you all, and thanks for all the support~ I really do love to hear from you!


	5. The sexy boots

_The sexy boots_

Summary: In which a week has gone by since Nathan's last row of shenanigans, and it is raining. Jack is heartbroken, Simon and Ralph are thrown into a who's hotter in _the boots_ shenanigan, and Roger would like everybody to just shut the hell up.

A/N: it was the last day of school today, but it was pouring buckets of rain all day long! It isn't honestly looking much better through out the rest of the week either… But as I was driving down the road that was quickly turning into a small lake, I came up with an idea for the next chapter, so I hope you like it!

Warnings: Ooooh, let's see, there's lots of cursing (as per usual, with special thanks to… Well, everyone but Simon, mostly). There is mention of _the sexy boots_, and there is Roger/Ralph!

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies.

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><p>It was bleak, and cloudy, and Ralph could not help but sigh heavily as he stared out the window of the relatively quiet dorm room. The walls of the room itself were a gloomy grey, with a blindingly white trim that seemed to never get dirty, no matter how hard he tried. On the dark, hard wood floor lay a small rug that Ralph and Simon had invested in, if only for the reason that it was <em>freezing<em> on a winter morning. Not that this was anywhere near a winter morning, but it could have been.

For the past week, it had been raining non stop, and it did not look as if it were going to be letting up any time soon. In fact, it looked as if it would continuously rain for forever and ever, and the thought of that was more than enough to drive both Ralph and Simon up the proverbial wall. Besides, it was painfully obvious that Roger was tired of listening to everyone's bitching about the weather. Or in Jack's case, about anything and everything. All the same, Ralph sighed once more as he turned away from the window, and instead shifted his gaze to look across the room to the other bed. The bed was identical to his own, save for the fact that it was actually made, as opposed to his ruffled mess of linens. Where had Simon run off too? On second thought, where did he _ever_ run off too?

"Probably to somewhere far, far away from here…" Ralph mumbled quietly, and snorted. Lucky bastard. He wanted to get out of here so badly that it felt as if he might suddenly explode with want. It was driving him crazy, being inside all day! He could tell Simon had the same feelings, if his moody lack of verbal communication and even more moody flopping over onto his bed when it was near had anything to say about it. Or he could just be mad at Jack again, which seemed to be the usual answer to these situations lately.

And speak of the devil - here he was, storming his way through the door once again, looking positively livid as he slammed the door behind him. Ralph not only nearly shot out of his skin and into the ceiling at the sudden intrusion, but took on a rather striking resemblance of a deer in the headlights. The blonde watched in silence as Simon - more pissed off than he'd been in a while - flopped down onto the empty bed and snarled his frustrations into the pillow that lay there. It went on like that for a good three minutes, until silence rained once more, and Ralph was not entirely sure of what to do. Simon was lethal when angry; and one had to be _very_ careful when trying to soothe this, because he had one hell of a right hook.

In yet, everyone thought he was so bloody innocent. Ralph bit his tongue to keep from snorting and rolling his eyes at the very thought, and instead tried to select his words carefully. "So, I take it Jack was being an arse again?" Not very original, but… Better Jack's head than his own, right?

Simon snorted and rolled onto his side. "That's a bit of an understatement." he mumbled as his livid anger subsided into deep pools of miserable in all of three seconds. Ralph's heart melted and he got up from his perch, and walked over to sit next to Simon.

"What did he say this time?" Ralph sighed, leaning down and hugging the miserable boy.

For a long time, Simon was quiet, and Ralph had assumed that he was replaying the conversation in his head. So, it was with no surprise on Ralph's part that he smiled empathetically before gathering up the sobbing boy into his arms, and hugging him. It was a pain in the ass to be in love with someone who loved someone else, after all. There was some mumbled form of speech trying to make its way out of Simon's mouth as he sobbed, but it was lost in the water works, and Ralph had no intention of asking the poor boy to repeat it. Instead, he said, "That good, huh?" To which Simon laughed tearily, and swiped at his eyes angrily.

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><p>Roger bit back a feral snarl, and glowered across the dorm room at Jack. He'd only been in the room for three goddamn minutes, and he'd already given him a headache! Maybe it was because Roger wasn't a morning person…. Maybe it was because Roger had the terrible habit of going to bed at the wee hours… Or, maybe it was because that it was six o' clock on a Saturday morning and he'd just fallen asleep. "Jack." Roger said patiently, the obvious warning sneaking its way into his tone. He'd sat up and folded his hand neatly in his lap, and wore the expression one would expect to see on an attentive parent. This usually meant that somebody was three seconds away from being beaten to a pulp. But Jack was oblivious, and just kept going on, and on, and on… And on, and on, and on.<p>

"Shut the fuck up Merridew, it's too damn early!" and on that note, Roger leapt from his bed and onto Jack's, where he put forth his best effort to simply shut up the talkative redhead.

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><p>It wasn't until about three hours later that everyone emerged from their dorms, sleepy, angry, or moody, and headed down to breakfast. Ralph had taken up residence by the window and stared out wistfully, while Simon stalked off to go and get his coffee before he slaughtered someone. Roger soon followed their example and popped in, looking perky as hell, and Jack limped after him. This caused everyone in the room - who wasn't used to this already - to shudder in unison before turning back to their breakfasts. The two went and sat with their moody damsel, and looked out the window as well.<p>

"Do you think it'll let up anytime soon?" Ralph sighed, not looking away.

"Well, do you want the truth, or the candy coated truth?" Roger yawned.

Ralph laughed quietly and shook his head, "The candy coated truth, of course."

Roger grinned cheekily and attacked Ralph with a bear hug, to which the blonde laughed and half heartedly tried to escape. "Well, there is rain today, but some day the sun will come out again!" Roger then released the blonde and ruffled his hair before propping his elbows on the table. Ralph liked it when Roger was in a good mood - which usually occurred after he kicked Jack's ass - because he could usually finagle a hug out of it. Plus, it also gave him an excuse to have his undivided attention.

A win/win situation, really, considering how often Jack pissed him off. As Simon came back, coffee in hand, Roger sighed gently and Ralph smiled sadly. Jack winced and wondered how far he'd make it if he tried to run. Still, no one said anything until after Simon had tentatively sipped his coffee a few times. "What should we do today?" Simon asked, and everyone let out a breath that they never realized they were holding. At first, Simon had been exasperated when they did this, but it had happened every morning since… It happened.

It had been a Wednesday morning, and Simon - who had just woken up - had come down to go and get his breakfast. However… Someone, who surprisingly was not Jack, had decided to piss him off. Needless to say, it had been all of three seconds before the poor bastard was screaming bloody murder. Half an hour later found him in the infirmary sporting several broken fingers, a shattered ankle, a bloody nose, and exactly four missing teeth. From that day on, they never spoke a word before Simon had had his coffee, and Simon had come to accept this as their defense mechanism.

"We could use Jack as a human piñata." Roger offered.

Simon took on a thoughtful look, to everyone's surprise, and Roger and Ralph looked to Jack for an explanation. "What in god's name did you _do_?" Roger asked, looking honestly surprised. Jack laughed hysterically and tried to slide under the table. "Nothing, I swear! Just don't hurt me anymooooore!" Jack wailed.

Ralph sighed. "Jesus, Jack, you have _no_ spine before noon."

"What'd he do?" Roger asked, turning his gaze to Ralph and Simon, ignoring Jack as he successfully slid under the table and clung to his leg. Simon snorted indignantly and turned back to his coffee moodily, while Ralph patted the noirette's shoulder sympathetically.

"It was about… _The boots._" Ralph sighed.

Roger's eyebrow's rose curiously, and he glanced under the table at Jack quickly, before turning back to Ralph. "Really now? What about _them_?"

"Erm… Well-"

"Jack says they'd look better on Ralph any day." Simon snapped, looking under the table to glower murderously at Jack. Meanwhile, above the table, Ralph turned scarlet and looked out the window. For a moment, Roger was quiet, and took on a thoughtful look as he tried to picture it. In fact, it grew so quiet as he thought, that the other two occupants above the table had to turn back to the stormy noirette in question. Alas, the verdict was, "It would depend on what you wore."

Ralph and Simon both blinked in unison, and Roger shrugged nonchalantly. "If it bothers you that much, we could go and test it."

Simon glowered and Ralph shook his head violently. "And just whose side are you on?" Simon grumbled into his coffee, but left it at that.

"Aww, c'mon! You're _dying_ to know, Simon! I'm sure we could find _some_ party to crash so we could test this theory." Roger wheedled. Simon raised an eyebrow and glowered, but crumbled as Roger puppy-dog eyed him and sighed heavily. "_Fine._"

It was _physically_ impossible to resist Roger's puppy-dog eyes. Damnit.

Ralph looked mortified. "But… But I don't wanna wear _them_!"

Simon and Roger both looked over at Ralph in a mixture of surprise and you-really-don't-have-a-choice, and Ralph knew that his fate was sealed. "…Remind me to kill Jack." Ralph grumbled and glared out the window moodily.

"Gladly." Simon smirked.

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><p>Clothes hunting, shoe finding, duffel bag stuffing, and three hours later, the four returned to the boarding school and set about getting ready for the nights events. Since everyone was pissed at Jack, as per usual, he'd been made designated driver should anything <em>untoward<em> happen. Simon and Ralph had retreated to their dorm room with the duffel bag about a half hour ago, and the door had been firmly locked since then. Roger and Jack had taken all of five minutes to change clothes and be ready for party crashing, and had since taken up residence outside the door.

"So, who is wearing the boots first?"

"The what?" Roger asked, looking confused.

Oh, right. Jack had forgotten to use the scared rabbit voice. "Who is gonna wear _the boots_ first?" Jack sighed.

Roger smirked. "I dunno. Ralph wasn't too happy about having to wear _them_, so I'm assuming it's Simon first." he shrugged.

It was then that the door opened, to reveal Simon - clad in jeans, a form fitting green shirt, and black converse - and being unceremoniously pushed out the door by a flustered Ralph, who slammed the door the second Simon was out of the room. Jack and Roger both looked at him questioningly, to which Simon's only response was, "He's mad because I put glitter on him."

Roger and Jack both snorted and burst into laughter, as well as Simon, who could no longer manage to keep a straight face. It was only when they stopped laughing, that Roger had noticed the distinct absence of _the sexy boots_. In their place was a pair of converse, that did not reach quite as high, but were nice none the less. "I take it Ralph's wearing _them_ then?"

Simon nodded solemnly and a silence fell upon the three of them.

**Shit.**

It was a good five minutes before the door opened again, to reveal Ralph, who had been mercilessly attacked by Simon's inner fashionista since they had walked through the door. Where they had gotten even _half_ of the clothing that was in that duffel bag, Ralph would never know, because most of it was certainly not his. But as he stood there silently, no one could seem to look away, and he wanted to simply close the door and put on regular clothing and never talk to them ever, ever again. The blushing blonde was wearing an electric blue tank top that Simon had managed to pull out of thin air - "Because it matched the laces!" - black short shorts, fishnets, and _the sexy boots_ that went all the way to his knees. Simon had been meticulous, and had even forced him into studded fingerless gloves and glitter. Oh, god the glitter. Ralph had managed to scrub the clumps off into something presentable, but it clung to his skin mercilessly.

"See, the glitter isn't that bad!" Simon grinned.

Ralph glared. "Simon, I'm gonna kill you!" he snapped. "The glitter is never going to come off!"

It went on like that for all of two minutes before Roger hefted the angry blonde over his shoulder expertly and turned and headed out to his truck. He was _not_ putting up with a headache on top of all of this. So, Jack closed the door to the dorm, and Simon locked it, and the two followed Roger in an awkward silence as Ralph protested halfheartedly to being carried by Roger, as he always did.

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><p>The party had been easy enough to locate and get into, and the tally of '<em>Do you think this blonde is sexy in these boots<em>?' was going strong. It was going so well, in fact, that Ralph had taken to hiding behind Roger to avoid molestation. Simon had gone to sit in the truck with Jack as the noise grew to be too much for the inebriated boy, and was presently curled up against the curly redhead, babbling about fish.

However, Ralph was hiding in some distant corner with Roger, who had become quite giggly with all the alcohol in his system. Not that Ralph was much different at the moment, but that was beside the point. They had sat down a while ago, because the room had started to spin and swirl, and - Ohhhh, man, was it making Ralph dizzy! - and curled up neatly together. Ralph had wanted desperately to sit in Roger's lap, and Roger had let him, laughing as he hugged Ralph to him tightly.

"So… We've asked eeeeeverybody if they… If they like the boots…" Ralph said observantly. Roger giggled and nodded, setting his chin on top of Ralph's shoulder. "Do you like them?" Ralph asked gently, turning to look at Roger, only to find him much closer than he expected. Roger laughed again, and Ralph smiled, nudging Roger's nose with his own. "C'mooooon!" Ralph whined. "I love them!" Roger giggled, scarred rabbit voice long forgotten.

Ralph's eyes widened and he gasped comically. "Really? You like them?"

"Of course I do! They are damn attractive boots." Roger smirked, hugging Ralph tighter. Ralph merely grinned and wrapped his arms around Roger's neck, but that was as far as he got before his own laughter fell from his lips. However, the action must have triggered something In Roger's head, because it was all of three seconds before his lips connected with Ralph's. Ralph was a bit surprised at first, but all too eagerly melted into the kiss.

It was getting late, though, and Simon had long since fallen asleep, so Jack deemed it time to go and find Roger and Ralph. He'd been looking for a good five minutes when he stumbled upon them in their drunken state, and suddenly felt as if the rug had been pulled out from under him. Ralph was wrapped up in Roger's arms, smiling eagerly as he let Roger go about kissing the life out of him. For a moment, Jack stood there, frozen and felt his heart contract painfully, but forced himself to move numbly. "They're drunk." Jack muttered, and closed his eyes for a moment.

It could have been worse.

Jack was silent as he walked over and calmly told them that it was time to get the hell out of dodge, and took them back to the truck. Simon was still asleep in the front seat where Jack had left him, and the redhead stuffed the other two into the back, where they proceeded to fall asleep as well. There was no way in _hell _that Jack was carrying all of them to bed.

So, upon arrival back at the school, threw the keys at Roger and locked the doors, and took Simon up to bed and took up residence on the vacant bed. Not that he would be able to sleep… But it was more comfortable than the floor. Besides, he knew how much it frightened Simon to wake up alone.

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><p>AN: that's all for now! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, and I hope that you liked it!


	6. Headaches and wake up calls

Headaches and wake up calls_  
><em>

Summary: In which Ralph comes to a conclusion, Roger accidentally breaks a heart, Simon kisses Jack, and Jack is spaced out.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I really do love reading them~ And thank you to my beta aggirl53! You are a brave soul haha

Warnings: Hmm... Well this one is kinda sad, but there is some Roger/Ralph (if you squint) and some Jack/Simon.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies.

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><p>Sunrise came <em>way<em> to early for Ralph, who had been abandoned in the car with Roger the night before. The blonde groaned and huffed in irritation for a few minutes, before he buried his face in the very, very warm whatever that he was snuggled up against. This lasted for a few seconds before his eyes shot open and - ever so cautiously - he looked at the situation. Okay, so, he was in a vehicle, in the back seat, and wrapped up neatly in someone's arms. Good. That was a good start. But to whom did these deliciously warm arms belong?

Ralph tried desperately not to hyperventilate.

He closed his eyes and calmly counted backwards from ten and took a deep breath before looking over to see who it was. Roger was thankfully fast asleep, because the second he found him, he turned a bright shade of red all the way down to his neck! Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god... Ralph bit his lip to try and squash the need for hyperventilation, and hid his face in Roger's chest. This was, inevitably, where it hit him.

This was probably as close to being with Roger as he was ever going to get.

Ralph blinked a few times, for no matter how many times he ran it through his head, it still didn't quite make sense yet. But he sighed heavily, and knew that it was true. Roger was... Well, he loved Simon. The blonde smiled bitterly to himself, but pushed it aside in favor of reveling in being so close to Roger. He snuggled up close and closed his eyes against everything, and focused on the soft sound of Roger's dozy breathing as he slept on. Of course, it was only then that Ralph realized that he had a _splitting_ headache.

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><p>The early rays of morning sun could not stir Jack from his post, as he dutifully sat upon the unmade bed and watched over Simon as he slept. He seemed quite peaceful, really, and for a moment Jack wondered if he was always like this. Maybe? It was hard to tell considering he was usually either mad at him, or attacking him with... Well, anything, really. Simon wasn't picky about his weaponry; as long as it was blunt, it would get the job done. Needless to say, most of Jack's trips to the hospital stemmed from unintentionally scaring the life out of Simon.<p>

The redhead smiled softly, though it did not touch his hollow eyes as he sat passively, silently. For most of the night, he'd been pondering and replaying the tail end of the party in his head. Roger and Ralph had been drunk from hell to high water and back, no doubt, but surely there was some sort of bells and whistles going off in Roger's head! After all, he was the one that Jack always ranted to about Ralph. As usual, though, it was another one of those _everyone but the object of affections knows_ sort of deal. Jack sighed heavily and closed his eyes.

It was probably for the best anyway, considering that Ralph had his eye set on someone already... With a bitter smile, it wasn't exactly hard to guess who. Of _course_ he would be after Roger! After all, the noirette always went and saved him from his hidey holes, and carried him around, and hugged him... Jack snorted and rolled his eyes. Besides, he was hardly, if ever, mad at Roger... And he didn't seem to particularly mind being woken up by him either, regardless of the _don't-touch-me-when-I-sleep_ rule.

The more he thought about it, the more obvious it was, and the more frustrated and miserable he became. Damnit! Why did this kind of thing_ always_ happen to him? Sure, he'd had a few relationships before, but... Jack opened his eyes, and they widened in surprise. Oh, shit. In all the years that they'd all known each other... He couldn't ever remember Ralph having any sort of romantic anything before. Granted, that was all Nathan's fault, but that was beside the point. That meant that at the party last night when he kissed Roger...

"His first kiss." Jack breathed.

Oh no... There was no way in hell that this was going to end well.

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><p>It was around eight o' clock when Roger opened his eyes groggily, wrinkling his nose as sunlight poured in from the windows. From somewhere on the edge of his blurred vision, he caught a shock of blonde hair, and looked down to find Ralph curled up in his arms. He hummed quietly for a second as his sleep addled brain took this in, and closed his eyes once more. So he had Ralph in his arms sleeping... Okay.<p>

"Oh, shit." was the first thing that Roger said, in reference to the god awful pounding in his head. Ralph, however, hadn't really been sleeping, and had heard Roger's quiet cursing. Ralph had known that he was awake, and was waiting with bated breath for something like this... And it took everything he had to keep up the guise of being asleep. Looks like he'd been right. He hadn't expected Roger's reaction to waking up like this to be fabulous, but he'd miscalculated how much it would hurt. Then again, he'd also been hoping that pigs would fly and they would end up together.

Like that would happen.

Ralph was quiet as he listened to Roger cursing under his breath, and bit down on his lip ferociously as he felt tears well up behind his closed lids. Was it really _that_ bad...? Roger lifted a hand to rub his temples and sighed softly as he screwed his eyes shut, trying desperately to block out the light. _Now_ he remembered why he didn't drink often... This whole _hangover_ thing was a pain in the ass! However, there was a small whimper as he moved, and he looked down at the blonde curled up against him, and frowned a little. Ralph was now left with the taste of blood upon his tongue as he nursed his currently bleeding lip, feeling much colder than he had when he'd first woken up.

That might have had something to do with the aching feeling in his chest, or maybe the crushed dreams that now resided at the bottom of his stomach. He couldn't quite decide which. Either way, he only noticed the tears that were running down his face when Roger gingerly pulled him out of his hiding spot and looked at him worriedly. "Ralph? What's wrong?" Roger murmured, gently swiping at the tears. "M-Migraine..." Ralph mumbled, and closed his eyes as Roger sighed. "Well let's get you inside then." On that note, they were quickly out of the car, and off to find some dark, quiet place to hide... Well, after a good brushing of the teeth and hunting down of some aspirin.

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><p>Simon had woken around eight thirty, because Jack could not stand another <em>minute<em> of alone time with his thoughts. After all, there had been some heavy things to process, like the fact that there wasn't even a slim chance that he could have Ralph. Or the fact that he hadn't seemed to mind losing is lipginity. But maybe, it was because he knew that the skittish blonde was inevitably going to get hurt.

Not that Jack was in any mood to admit to that last one at the moment, but he knew that it was the reason that drove him to violently shake Simon from his slumber. To which Simon's response had been to flip him off and shamelessly list off any profanities that came into his head.

Almost like a regular morning.

Jack rolled his eyes and, with practiced movements, pinned Simon down before he could start swinging. "Simon." the redhead said patiently, listening as the grumpy boy cursed him to the deepest, darkest pits of hell. "Simon." Exactly like a regular morning.

"Get off of me! My body is not ready!" Simon screeched. Or not.

There was a moment of silence, as Jack processed Simon's euphemism, and Simon tried to go back to sleep... Despite the heavy redhead that had pinned him down. Were he more awake, he would have mercilessly done several questionable things, which no one would believe happened later. After all, there was only so much that Ralph and Roger were willing to believe... The rest of the time it was just a smile and a nod. Or in Roger's case, a scowl and a threat to the physical health if Jack didn't shut up and let him have his breakfast in peace. Alas, Simon was tired, and the fact that Jack - _oh dear lord, why won't he just kiss him already? _- had been in a suggestive position for the better part of five minutes did not particularly stir anything was a testament to how tired he was.

Not that he'd done a bunch of anything last night, really... He'd mostly sat in the car with Jack. Or did he? It was all a bit fuzzy... As Simon cracked open an eye tiredly, he found that Jack had apparently either short circuited or just spaced _waaaay_ the hell out.

_Simon... _

"Jack?" Simon tried, frowning a little. Nothing.

_Body._

"Jaaaaack!" he whined, wriggling around a little. Nothing again.

_Ready._

Simon huffed and glowered at him for a moment, taking in just how glazed over his pretty blue eyes were... And he grinned. Now, it wasn't often that this tactic had to be used, but it sure as hell was fun when it was. For Simon, anyway.

_What?_

"Jack?" he pouted, but grinned a little as nothing happened. Oh well, there went his three chances! After wriggling and squirming for a few seconds, Simon managed an awkward, almost up right position - which he felt damn proud of - and shamelessly pressed his lips against Jack's. Simon always liked this part, because Jack's lips were always so soft pressed up against his own. Soft, sweet, and unresponsive. Simon had tried again and again to tell himself that it didn't matter to him whether or not Jack kissed him back, but he knew that it did. He knew that it hurt, but he'd take it, because this was as close as he was gonna get.

T_hen something clicked inside of Jack's head, and it all fell into place. Why not return the favor?_

The noirette pulled away and lay back down quietly, neglecting to look back at the redhead to see if his antidote had worked. He never wanted to see the reaction, so he had never bothered to watch... He wasn't going to watch the rejection. He'd be _damned_ if he fell apart like that! There was silence, as there always was, but... There was also something unnerving about this silence. It was unnerving how Simon couldn't even hear him breathing... It was unnerving that his gaze had not shifted an inch from where it had been... It was unnerving to Simon, as he felt himself being pulled into a hug... It was most unnerving, though, as he saw Jack sort of... Fall apart upon his small shoulder.

Simon was confused, but gentle, and hummed softly as Jack muttered to himself, and tentatively wrapped his own arms around him. There were no coherent words spoken, just ramblings from Jack, and the heavy weight of something akin to a broken heart that filled the almost silence. "Jack?" he whispered gently, turning to look at the redhead, who had buried his face in Simon's shoulder. "What happened, Jack?" he asked. Jack turned his gaze to Simon and smiled bitterly for a moment, before turning away again. "Nothing a little revenge won't fix."

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><p>AN: that's all for now! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, and I hope that you liked it!


	7. The sexy boots make a third appearance

The _sexy boots_ make a third appearance

Summary: In which the quartet set out to go and crash another party, Jack gets his revenge, Roger and Ralph feel heartbroken together and Simon decides to just on the heartbreak hell boat as well. But not before he kicks Jack's ass.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies

A/N: it's gonna get pretty intense! I'm excited~ And thank you to my beta aggirl53! Without you, this would no doubt have been a whole lot worse :)

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><p>At around noon Jack, Simon, Ralph and Roger all wandered down to the cafeteria, all either hung over, heart broken, exhausted, or moody as hell. Or a combination of the four, in which case, they all wisely said nothing as Ralph took to falling asleep once more at the table. At this Jack frowned, Roger massaged his temples, and Simon nursed his mild headache with coffee and aspirin. This went on for about five minutes before Jack couldn't stand this morning after silence any longer and brought up the dreaded subject; "<em>The boots."<em> Roger groaned, Simon sighed heavily, and Ralph promptly flipped him the bird. "Oh, come on Ralph, it's not like you have to wear _them_ again tonight."

Ralph lifted his head slowly, glared at Jack as if he would suddenly burst into flames, and perked an eyebrow. "Your point being?" he hissed.

"Simon has to wear them, so you don't have to worry about some stranger pointing at you through their pants." Jack shrugged.

Ralph kicked him, Simon punched him, and Roger helped himself to Simon's aspirin. Jack hissed and grumbled to himself, rubbing his sore arm and leg gingerly. "Pointing pants indeed." Simon snorted indignantly, turning back to his coffee. "Sounds almost as inviting as strangers with candy." Roger deadpanned. Jack shot the stormy boy a look, which was ignored in favor of reading the dosage amount on the aspirin bottle. "Anyway," Ralph said, suddenly feeling conversational. "What about _the boots_?" Jack blinked stupidly at the blonde, who smiled innocently before taking the aspirin bottle. "We'll just go and crash another party." Roger sighed, closing his eyes sleepily.

"Sounds good to me." Simon shrugged.

"No glitter this time, though. At least not on _me_."

"...Hypocritical assholes." Jack grumbled.

Roger shrugged, and Jack grumbled to himself, feeling a little unloved. "I dunno about you all, but I'm going back to bed until the light shuts up." and with that, Roger stood up and looked at them all critically. "Unless one of you is dying, or there is a potential missing persons case about to happen," a glance at Ralph, who flushed. "Do not wake me up before six, for any reason. I _will_ beat the shit out of you." The remaining three watched quietly as the headachy boy walked off, wondering just what sort of shenanigans might be possible whilst Mommy - Roger - was asleep. But, after a moment, there was decidedly nothing that would be worth the amount of trouble that they would get into, and so they all turned back to the conversation. "Sleep sounds like a good idea, especially if this hangover has anything to say about it." Simon offered. Ralph nodded silently and stifled a yawn while Jack shrugged and looked out the window. It did _not_ sound like a good idea. Not at all. Mostly because Jack had to share a room with Roger, and when it was time to be quiet, it was either shut up or get mauled. The whole opening and closing of the door, the shuffling about, the squeaks of a chair or the other bed, the breathing... It all had to go. Especially the breathing.

But that was not why Jack had no desire to go back to his dorm room, although that was admittedly a large contribution. No, he simply did not want to be in the same room with the person who had spent the better half of last night kissing Ralph. Jack frowned and closed his eyes for a moment, paying no mind to the others as he replayed the memory in his head. Ralph had been happy, giggly even, and... And Roger had been drunk as hell. The redhead scowled and opened his eyes, glowering out the window silently, the plot of his vengeance safely tucked away in the back of his head. He would be merciless, for that had been Ralph's first kiss, and he probably didn't even remember it! He had debated whether or not to tell Ralph, but decided to wait until he was a little calmer and less moody, mostly because he wasn't as quick to jump to violence then. He had it all planned out, how he would break the news to him... He just hoped that it wouldn't do too much damage.

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><p>It was one minute until six o' clock, and Ralph and Simon sat outside of Roger and Jack's dorm room, watching, waiting... Eyes wide as dinner plates, watching intently, and leaning in as the seconds ticked by, they held their breath and wondered what would happen when the clock struck six. Ten seconds now... Ralph was convinced that he'd forgotten how to breathe.<p>

"Ten." said Simon.

"Nine." Ralph murmured.

"Eight." Simon whispered.

"Seven." gasped Ralph.

"Six." Simon sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Five." Ralph said ominously, wiggling his fingers at the door as if it would make it open faster.

"Four." Simon said, almost solemnly.

"Three." Ralph said, looking a bit like a scared rabbit.

"Two." Simon breathed.

"ONE!" They screamed as the door swung open to reveal Roger, scowling at them in irritation. "Will you two shut up? Do you have _any _idea how irritating it is to wake up to some idiots counting outside your door?" he hissed, frowning deeply. Simon and Ralph, from their position on the floor, had clung to each other as they screamed, and now stared at Roger with wide eyes, half expecting him to slaughter them. Roger stared at them, a little unsure of what exactly to do with... Well, _that_, and rolled his eyes before closing the door once more. He needed to find some _normal_ friends. Meanwhile, Simon and Ralph, working as one, scuttled back to their own dorm room and closed the door tightly, making sure to lock it before they set about getting ready for the nights events themselves.

However, as Simon was fervently searching for something akin to a corset, Ralph noticed that there was something strange. No, not the fact that he was having a glaring competition with _the sexy boots_, or the fact that there seemed to be glitter over every single inch of their room. Or even the fact that Simon had been able to own even half of this clothing without his parents noticing... No, it was the simple fact that they hadn't seen their favorite redhead since noon. "Hey, Simon, where do you think Jack ran off too?" Ralph mused, turning his gaze over to the noirette who had, finally, located his corset. Apparently he wasn't taking any of this _who's sexier in the boots_ stuff lightly. Ralph sighed, but smiled and laid back on his bed, frowning at the amount of glitter that clung to the ceiling.

It was like a disco ball had exploded.

"Hm? Oh, I dunno. Probably brooding somewhere, you know how he gets when we're all feeling bitchy." Simon shrugged, walking over to the edge of Ralph's bed. "Lace me up?" he asked, turning the puppy dog eyes on Ralph. The blonde rolled his eyes playfully, but sat up and set to lacing up the back of the corset all the same. "Yeah, I know... But he's usually back by now." Ralph pointed out, to which Simon frowned and nodded. "We should go find him before we leave." Simon murmured, thinking back to this morning. It had been strange, to say the least, and he certainly hadn't been expecting Jack to just fall apart like that. It was a bit scary, actually... What was he even supposed to _do_ with that? Apparently Ralph was better at this lacing up thing then he lead on, because it was a matter of seconds before Simon was pulled out of his thoughts as the lace was tied off.

Simon perked an eyebrow at Ralph, to which the blonde gave a pseudo-innocent smile and shrugged. "Mum was hell bent on putting Nathan and I in boy scouts when we were little." he offered. "Now he can save his darling baby brother from the bears too." Simon snorted and rolled his eyes, while Ralph grimaced. "I'd rather take my chances with the bears." he sighed, plopping back down onto his bed, as Simon went back to rummaging about. It was at least an hour before Simon finally decided on what to wear, and a half hour more before he stopped chasing Ralph around the room with an ungodly amount of glitter. In the end, Simon looked sexy and Ralph sparkled from head to toe, and Roger felt sorry for the glittery blonde. "Nathan would have a heart attack if he saw you like this," Roger commented, helping Ralph scrub off some of the glitter with a towel.

"Good." Ralph scowled.

"Then he'd demand to know who it was you'd been rolling around in the sack with, and let all and sundry know what he thought about it." Simon deadpanned.

"Regardless of how many times you told him that it was Simon that attacked you with the glitter and not some strange, sparkly nutter." Roger added.

"I fail to see where you draw the line." Ralph said, scowling over at Simon.

Simon feigned a hurt look and stuck his tongue out.

"God, you two are just like children." Roger sighed, lifting the towel to check his handiwork. Still glitter _everywhere_. Damn.

"Maybe that's why Nathan feels the need to keep an eye on Ralphiekins?" Simon deadpanned.

Ralph sighed heavily and shook his head, "Nathan'll be the death of me." he lamented, voice muffled as the towel was once more placed over his head. "And anyone that you're interested in." Simon said matter-of-factly, frowning as the glitter was painstakingly removed. Instantly, Ralph felt his stomach drop down to his knees, and he was suddenly very glad that there was a towel over his head. Simon was right... As per usual. The last time Nathan had discovered who it was that Ralph had liked they had almost had to switch towns! He'd barely even know the kid's name, much less spoken to him. But now he had his eye on one of his friends... Ralph vaguely considered the pros and cons of running away from home, and wondered how far he would get before Nathan finally found him, only to have his thoughts interrupted by Simon's voice. "I'm gonna see if I can find Jack." he announced, stifling a yawn as he turned and set off down the hall, a trench coat hiding his corset, skin tight shorts, and pale, slender legs. The boots made a soft tapping sound as they trailed down the hall, leaving Ralph in muddled thoughts, and Roger dutifully attacking the glitter that clung mercilessly to the blonde.

* * *

><p>Somehow, Jack had gotten himself caught up in a very dedicated search socks. Not just any socks, but the most comfortable socks in the world - or so he'd been told. Since Roger had been sleeping off a hangover, Simon had had a headache, and Ralph was feeling bitchy, Jack had gone off to pester Maurice. Normally, there wasn't a whole lot going on - as Maurice spent a generous portion of his time snogging Robert - but every now and then he would get sucked into this twisted portal of weird. It had started off by Maurice searching for the socks, and rambling off about places they could have been stuffed in - the drawer, under the bed, the closet - to which Jack had asked; <em>'What's so great about those socks?'<em> Maurice had wasted no time in informing him all about the amazing qualities of this particular pair of socks, and by the end, he had somehow managed to convince Jack to help him look for the damn things.

This was what Simon walked in on.

"...Okay," the noirette said cautiously, standing in the doorway. "What exactly is it that you're doing?" Jack, who had been looking under the bed, stopped his search to look over at Simon. "I seem to be helping Maurice find a pair of socks." the redhead frowned, shaking his head lightly. Simon blinked stupidly and looked over to Maurice, who was tearing apart his closet. "You've spent the last six hours looking for _socks_?"

"Not just any socks! The most amazing socks in the world!" Maurice barked irritably.

Jack cringed. "Nah, I've only been here for three hours."

Simon did not look impressed. "Is this some weird kink I should know about, Merridew?" Jack had the decency to look horrified, but before he could say anything, Maurice reappeared from the closet, and grinned triumphantly. "I know where they are!" he announced, to which Simon wrinkled his nose. "How lovely." he muttered sarcastically. Jack, having devoted three hours of his life to these damned socks, showed a little more interest. "Well, where are they?" he sighed.

"Robert has them."

Simon laughed, while Jack took a moment to register this information before tackling the brunette. Lucky for Maurice, Simon was there to do damage control - the small choir boy was a whole hell of a lot stronger than anyone gave him credit for - because it was all of two minutes before he was dragging the screeching redhead out of the room by his feet. "You do some weird shit when we aren't lookin' Jackie." Simon commented, nonchalantly dragging Jack down the hall. Several other students regarded them strangely, but most just left the two alone, because they were prone to these occurrences.

Several hallways later found them reunited with a - mostly - glitter free Ralph and Roger, who perked an eyebrow in silent question as Simon came to a halt, finally releasing Jack. "He's found himself a new fetish." Simon shrugged. Jack squawked in indignation, Ralph grimaced, and Roger snorted in laughter. "What is it this time?" Ralph asked cautiously.

"Socks."

"...Socks?"

"More specifically, Maurice's socks."

Roger looked at Jack as if he'd grown a second head, while Simon laughed, and Ralph looked thoughtful. "He doesn't wear socks." Ralph commented, to which the other three looked at the blonde stupidly. "He always wears sandals." the blonde offered, shrugging easily. Jack and Roger continued to stare at the blonde, not really sure how to take this new bit of information, while Simon turned to Jack and looked a little concerned. "Jack... If he doesn't wear socks, then what the hell were you actually looking for?" Jack shook his head slowly and rolled over onto his stomach, hoping that god would take pity on him and let him sink into the floor and stay there for a while.

Needless to say, they were silent from that point on, making for an awkward car ride.

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><p>It did not take long to locate the party, nor did it take long for Simon to basically have everyone at the party on their knees. Roger had volunteered to be the designated driver, seeing as he did not particularly enjoy hangovers, and was left to his own devices as they fanned out aimlessly to take the tally. It wasn't long before Simon's score tied with Ralph's, and the blonde was praying to any deity willing to listen, to please, <em>please<em> not let it stay that way. He hadn't even _wanted_ to wear _them!_ Simon, on the other hand, felt like shit. Sure, he could have had anyone in this damned party, but the one person he did want was too thick to realize it. He could vaguely hear someone slurring drunken nothings into his ear, and turned away sharply, scowling as he moved through the horde of people. He'd given up long ago trying to convince himself that this stupid crush of his wasn't going to bother him tonight. Hell, he'd given up trying to pretend that he was even slightly interested in any of these people! He knew what he wanted, and what he could not have, and he knew what he _needed_; a stiff drink.

It was with an unusual amount of grace that Simon swiped the bottle of rum, taking a swig of it before stalking off to drink by himself until he could no longer see straight. This was how Jack found Simon, sitting on the stairs, bottle in hand, and talking to himself. It was nearly midnight, and Jack knew that Roger's maternal instincts would soon kick in, bringing him that much closer to his revenge. Simon graciously moved over as Jack came and sat with him, leaning into the redhead as he giggled to himself. "What's so funny?" Jack grinned. Simon blinked innocently and looked up at him for a moment, but then snorted and burst into laughter, falling easily into Jack, who caught him just as easily. "Nothing is... I'm just laughing so I don't end up crying." he giggled. At this Jack frowned and felt his heart sink into his stomach. "Crying? For what?" he asked, to which Simon stiffened and grew quiet.

"More like for who." he slurred, curling into Jack as he thought over the source of his sorrows. For a long time, neither said anything, both a bit lost in thought, Jack reconsidering his plan - which wasn't much of a plan, as it only consisted of a strategically timed kiss - and Simon feeling heartbroken. Eventually Simon spoke, however, startling the redhead. "It's because I really like someone, but they're a bit stupid, so they don't know it." he sighed, setting his cheek against Jack's shoulder. The redhead smiled halfheartedly and looked over to the short noirette, only to find him on the verge of tears. Suddenly, he didn't have the heart to go through with this stupid plan. "Who is it?" he asked gently, wrapping the miserable noirette up in his arms.

Maybe it was because he was drunk.

Maybe it was because he was tired of heaving to beat around the bush all the damn time.

Maybe it was because he couldn't handle pretending that everyone who seemed to be interested in him was someone else.

Whatever his reasons, Simon was done keeping his secret, and snorted in irritation before crushing his lips against Jack's in a star shattering kiss. Jack was a bit taken aback by this, and Simon ignored this, reveling in the feeling of Jack's lips against his own before pulling back and glaring. "You, stupid." before Jack could even process what had just happened, Simon was on his feet, and wandering over to where Ralph stood giggling, leaning against Roger, who glared murderously at Jack. He watched silently as the three disappeared into the mob of people, Ralph turning from giggly to concerned as Simon rambled on to him tearily, Roger remaining silent as the grave as he lead them both out. He was vaguely aware of how much trouble he was in, and how much information he now had... But it all seemed useless now. Simon had been pining after _him_. He could have had anyone he pleased... But he'd wanted him. Jack never moved from that spot, and only noticed this when people began stirring the next morning, but even then, he lingered, lost in thought. It all made sense now... Simon was always the one to go looking for him, always the one to snap him out of his thoughts, always the one to comfort him when he was upset. He'd never noticed, though... Because he'd been chasing after someone else.

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><p>AN: That's all for now!

I'm sorry it took such a long time to update, I had lots of things to do and too little time.

But I'll have the next chapter up soon, I promise!

And thank you to everyone who reviewed!


	8. THe shunning of Merridew, part 1

The shunning of Merridew, part 1

Chapter summary: In which Simon is pissed off at Jack for everything, Roger suffers silently from heartbreak, and Ralph is hungover and torn between which noirette to comfort, and Jack gets his ass kicked from all directions. P.S. Nathan also gets to be big brotherly and save Ralphie from the demon child (Roger).

Warnings: PMSing of a psychotic caliber, cursing and a very stressed out Ralph.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies.

A/N: D'aww, I feel kinda sorry for Jack! But not really, because he's my bitch. Also, the chapter summary will be more or less the same for the next update as well.

Enjoy!

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><p>Morning found Roger perched on Ralph's bed with the blonde and Simon snuggled up against him, fast asleep. He had been silent since they'd left, and it seemed that this silence was unyielding, but if it bothered Roger he did not show it. Simon and Ralph, when sober, were a lot to put up with when it came to emotional shit... But it was something else <em>entirely<em> when they were **drunk**. How Roger had managed to get them into the car and all the way back to the dorm, he would never know, but once there he was torn between shooting himself in the face or playing mommy to the sobbing kiddies. In the short time that it took them to get from the party, all the way back to the school, Simon had managed to find some way to start Ralph sobbing as well. Roger had been glowering holes into the wall for the past hour, but sighed gently and shifted his gaze to Ralph as the blonde snuggled into him. He couldn't help but smile a little, if only because - no matter what - he was_ adorable_ when he slept. And he looked happy, in this one moment, which was comforting, considering how much he'd bawled his eyes out the night before. Of course, it had only started because Simon had been bawling his eyes out, but that was beside the point, because they still managed to give Roger a headache.

All the same, the three hours it took them to stop sobbing and fall asleep was somewhere between heartbreaking and irritating, because as a mommy, he had to love the kiddies unconditionally. This rule did not seem to apply to Jack on most days, because he pissed him off, but after last night, Jack would be lucky if he didn't slaughter him. At the same time, no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't _completely_ destroy the redhead, because poor little Simon was head over heals for him. And he had _kinda_ been Roger's best friend/mortal enemy since age five, but that meant about as much as mud at the moment. Roger had apparently taken to playing with Ralph's hair in the time he had become lost in his thoughts, for he heard Simon's quiet laughter, and stopped the motion immediately. "You two are cute together." Simon yawned observantly.

Roger smiled thinly and closed his eyes. "Really now?" he murmured, tilting his head back with a heavy sigh. Simon watched him closely and frowned deeply, hugging the heartachy, tired, moody sadist. "I'm sorry, Roger." he said gently, furrowing his brows in concern. In response he was given quiet laughter, which shook Ralph gently, but did not stir him from his slumber. "Don't be, I'm used to this kind of thing." Roger said, opening his eyes slightly to stare at the ceiling in quiet thought. Simon frowned and looked over to Ralph, who was so happily snuggled up against Roger's side. Simon had known before Ralph did that he'd liked Roger - it wasn't hard to tell, honestly, someone had to be blind not to notice - and he'd quickly informed the blonde of this, to which his reaction had been; "Oh, shit." From there, it was really just a balancing act to keep Nathan from finding out, but the little bastard had done it anyway, and Simon would be damned if he didn't find out how.

He had to keep an eye on his blondie! He couldn't take care of himself all by his lonesome! Well, maybe he could, with that boy scouts stuff, but... That was beside the point. Simon smiled a little, and gingerly squeezed Ralph's hand, which had apparently been attached to his own when they fell asleep. He could still remember Ralph's reaction when Maurice told him that Roger had his eye on Simon... The short noirette frowned gently and bit his lip, looking from Roger to Ralph. Couldn't he see that Ralph adored him? How could he miss the halfhearted protest, or the eager laughter when he hugged him? For a moment, Simon wanted to smack Roger and demand that he see reason, but he knew that that wouldn't do any good. None the less, he could not help but ask, "What kind of thing?"

Stormy green eyes, which had been focused on the ceiling, shifted over to the choir boy and a hollow grin, reminiscent of a grim melancholy spread across Roger's lips. "Having my heart ripped out, of course." he said simply, turning his gaze back to the ceiling as Simon frowned. "Roger..." Simon murmured, unsure of what to say. He _had_ ripped the poor boy's heart out, hadn't he? It hadn't been intended, but it would have happened at some point... Simon bit his lip and turned his gaze back to Ralph, who had yet to stir from his sleep, and silently lamented to himself. It was only when he heard soft humming and felt a soothing hand on his back that he realized that Roger would really like him to just shut up and go back to sleep. The noitette looked back at Roger, only to find him relatively calm, with his eyes closed, and apparently trying to drift off himself. "I'm sorry..." Simon whispered, before doing as he'd been silently asked, and returning to the land of slumber.

* * *

><p>Jack had more or less been sitting in the same place since Simon had confessed his crush, kissed him, and then left. Naturally, this got him in a fair amount of trouble, as he was not supposed to be there, but after threatening to blast music at the hungover party goers for hours, all protests were quickly smothered. All the same, he did need to get back to some place where he could shower and change, and so it was on that note that he left. Well, he tried, but after having his eyes viciously and brutally attacked by the sunlight for several long minutes, he realized that he had no idea where he was. <strong>Shit.<strong>

He didn't really want to go back in and pester the pissy drunkards, and he didn't really wanna stick around east Jesus nowhere, so he simply started off down the road and hoped that he'd find someway out of there. For the better part of an hour, Jack was left to wander about aimlessly, completely unaware of Simon's broken heart, Roger's unyielding anger, and Ralph's hopeless hopefulness. The one thing he was aware of, however, was the fact that he was completely confused about everything. Simon... Simon had been silently pining after him, while he'd wanted to be with Ralph.

Jack felt a pang of guilt as he realized that he'd subjected the poor boy to his lovesick rantings when Roger was either dying - usually of a cold - or too pissed off to deal with him, and Simon simply sat there and listened to him. "Simon..." He sighed, shaking his head. Why hadn't he told him? Out of all of them, he had to be the most gutsy, even if it was only around a select few people. But then there was Roger, who was likely going to beat the shit out of him when he turned up. Jack grimaced and sighed, glancing down at his shoes as he walked. Despite his original plan, he wasn't going to kiss Simon, because he just seemed so miserable about it all, but in the end it happened anyway, just the other way around. Either way, Jack had still managed to upset the uneasily balanced swing of things, and he knew that no matter what, it was going to bite him in the ass.

* * *

><p>Around noon, Ralph began to stir from his alcohol and tear induced slumber, only to find himself in relatively the same situation as the morning before... Save for the fact that he knew they were late for <em>something<em> if the roiling in his stomach had anything to say about it. And the addition of Simon, but that was not what caught his attention first. No, the second his eyes opened was the second that he became acutely aware of the fact that someone was playing with his hair. A glance over to Simon told him that, not only was he on the wrong side to be doing that, but he was also asleep. If it was possible, Ralph was fairly certain that this caused him to feel just a little more paranoid. Someone... Someone was _touching_ him! And he'd been **asleep!**

Oh, dear lord, he was going to have a heart attack.

Slowly, slowly Ralph turned his head to look at the culprit, and slowly, slowly he came to realize that some strange dream and a horrid nightmare had decided to become one. Roger, who had previously had his eyes closed, stopped his fidgeting and looked over at Ralph, who was caught between fight or flight. "Sorry, Roo, didn't mean to scare you." Roger murmured, smiling tiredly. This seemed to calm Ralph down a bit, as a sheepish smile melted onto his lips. "It's alright, I'm just being paranoid... Again." the blonde mumbled, leaning back into Roger. Almost immediately, the fidgeting began again, and Ralph was starting to wonder if this was some strange, new nervous habit that Roger had developed. Not that he minded, much, but it was a little concerning. (Granted, it was mostly concerning because of what Nathan would do.) Ralph tilted his head up and looked at Roger, frowning a little and knitting his brows together. "Roger?" he asked gently, causing the fidgeting to halt. Stormy green eyes shifted from staring a hole into the wall, and down to Ralph, "Yes?"

"Penny for your thoughts?" Ralph tried.

"...Why?" Roger frowned.

"Well, you've been petting my head and that lead me to believe that you might have something on your mind." Ralph pointed out.

At this, Roger perked an eyebrow in a silent _oh-really-now?_ while Ralph merely stared at him expectantly. "No." he said finally, to which Ralph pouted and puffed out his cheeks. "Why not?" he persisted, setting his chin upon Roger's shoulder. Something about this seemed familiar, but the fuzzy feeling in Ralph's head barred anything and everything from memory, so he was lost for the reason why. Roger frowned and Ralph wheedled, but it seemed that it was to no avail, as Roger refused to tell him what his thoughts were. Naturally, this forced Ralph into using all the interesting phrases he could come up with, which would drive him insane sooner or later.

"What's the story, mornin' glory?"

"Shut up."

"What's up buttercup?"

Roger stared at him stupidly, and wondered if all those years of Nathan's big brothering had knocked something lose inside Ralph's head.

"What's the deal, banana peal?"

"...Why do you know so many of these?"

"What's the word, hummingbird?"

At this point, Mommy Roger could take no more, and Ralph saw this and felt triumphant. Roger sighed heavily and closed his eyes, slowly counting backwards from ten, and pinched the bridge of his nose, all in an effort to scrape together the remains of his patience. "Roger...?" Ralph asked gently, frowning in concern. Slowly, Roger turned back to Ralph, a wary frown upon his lips, "Yes, Ralph?" he murmured. He sounded tired and sad, and Ralph felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach slowly. "Are... Are you at least okay? Y-You really don't have to tell me what happened, if you don't want to... I just..." he sputtered, biting his lip as his voice slowly died. Though, that might have had something to do with the blank look that Roger was giving him as he spoke, which was a bit frightening, if Ralph was being completely honest.

All the same, Roger couldn't help but smile warmly and press a kiss to his forehead gently, and hug him closer. "Sweet of you to ask." Roger said, smiling a little. Ralph went from golden to violently red in all of three and a half seconds as a blush swept over his face, and crawled down his neck. Was... Was he sleeping? Could this be some strange, surreal, alcohol induced dream? He watched quietly as Roger leaned his head back against the wall once more and closed his eyes, trying desperately to find his voice, while trying not to hyperventilate. "Roger..." he managed to squeak out, biting his lip hard. Roger wasn't the most touchy feely person, and he didn't really do the whole _feelings_ thing, but if one payed attention, it wasn't hard to tell when something upset him. It was also painfully easy to tell if your name happened to be Jack Merridew, and one of the permanent occupations was as a punching bag.

That was another story, however. But as Roger opened his eyes and looked back over at Ralph, taking in the striking shade of red that had taken over his facial features, something clicked. Or spontaneously combusted, Ralph wasn't really sure, but he was leaning more towards the latter. Stormy green looked into soft grey, and for a moment everything suddenly fell silent, and seemed to slow. Breathing... Sound... Time, everything. Ralph had wanted to count the seconds, but he suddenly found that it didn't matter when he found his lips pressed firmly against Roger's. In all honesty, they were a lot softer than he had imagined they would be... And a whole hell of a lot colder. For some reason, Roger was _freezing_, which was both concerning and something that seemed like it would occur naturally. After all, he was rather terrifying on the best of days, so it wasn't a surprise that the dark and gloom sucked the warmth out of everything. Or something like that.

It was a simple, chaste kiss, and Ralph felt miserable the second it ended, but he didn't get too far before his lips were accosted once more. Ralph melted into the kiss, and smiled a little to himself, while Roger simply pushed away every thought he had in his head. Jack, Simon, the whole _boots_ incident... Just this simple kiss remained. Slowly they pulled apart and looked back at each other, Ralph red as a tomato, and Roger a little dazed, and a lot confused. Ralph was torn between being giddy and sobbing like an emotionally disturbed child, and as the seconds drug on he found that the latter was looking pretty friendly. So, it was on that note that - slipping out of Roger's grasp and off the bed - he fled the room and flew down the hall. Slipping through the halls found him in a place that he would normally never go to, for any reason; Nathan's dorm room.

He couldn't seem to recall the point at which he began beating down the door viciously, but it caused him to almost fall face first onto the floor when the door swung open. Ralph also, for the life of him, could not remember the point at which he had begun bawling his eyes out. Naturally, this was a very odd and worrisome sight for Nathan to find outside of his door, and so his _save Ralphie _senses kicked in. "Alright, who am I killing?" he asked, steadying Ralph so the poor boy wouldn't fall over. Unfortunately, no audible words could seem to make their way out of Ralph's mouth at that moment, so the homicidal intentions had to be put on hold for the time being. Instead Nathan pulled his baby brother into a hug, and sighed sadly as he sobbed. "Come on, then, inside." he said, leading Ralph into the room. A little convincing had them perched on the bed, with Ralph sobbing onto Nathan's shoulder, while Nathan tried to calm him down enough to speak clearly. Or at least give him a name for who to beat into a pulp.

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><p>AN: That's all for now! I'm sorry it took so long, and that this is sort of filler...

Things are a bit hectic, and I'm getting ready to go back to school. I'll update regularly when things get back to normal, I promise!

Thank you to everyone who reviewed and to everyone for reading!

I'll try and have the next chapter up soon!


	9. Maternal instincts

Maternal instincts

Summary: In which Mommy Roger and Simon have a fight, Jack turns philosophical, and Ralph is a potential runner up for hypothermia.

A/N: I apologize for my awful hiatus! I've been gone for so long, but now I'm back! I promise~

I'm sorry to have kept you all waiting for so long!

Warnings: Swearing, fighting (mostly on Simon and Roger's part) and probably a fair amount of fluff (also on Roger's part)

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies.

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><p>"Three days." Simon snapped, glowering at all and Sundry as he plopped moodily into a chair at the breakfast table. Roger, who was always one to be meticulous about getting his work done early, was busily scribbling away at homework that was due first period. Naturally, this caused him to ignore Simon completely, as well as Jack, though he spent half his time ignoring the redhead. Jack was trying not to fall asleep in his breakfast as he propped his elbow up on the table and leaned his cheek against his palm. "Three days?" he grunted, deciding to at least humor Simon. God only knew what he would be like if they both took to ignoring him... Simon did not handle negligence well. However, Simon was still unyielding mad at Jack, and shot him a glare that could've killed Rasputin, narrowing his eyes viciously. "Has anyone besides me noticed that Ralph has been <em>gone<em> for three bloody days?" he hissed, watching as Jack flinched, trying desperately to stay awake. "Oh, Jesus, not this again." Jack grumbled, pushing aside the plate of food in favor of laying his head down on the table. Roger continued his work, not even blinking once as Simon began his rant. "We've been looking all over for him, Simon, but he's gotten pretty damn good at this over the years. If he doesn't want to be found, we aren't going to find him." Jack muttered, voice muffled by his arms. It was too much work to lift his head.

Simon snorted and rolled his eyes luxuriously. "The reason that neither of us," he began, looking over at the redhead critically. "Has found him is because he doesn't want _us_ to go and save his happy ass." he said matter-of-factly. "He wants that asshat," he nodded over to Roger. "To go find him." Had Roger been paying even the slightest bit of attention, he might have been mildly offended, but it had no affect because he wasn't listening. Jack looked from the livid Simon, over to Roger, and back again before sighing heavily and getting up. "Going back to bed. 'S too damn early for this." he muttered, knowing exactly what was going to happen.

"Coward." Simon muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. Not like he even _cared_... At all. Roger carried on ignoring Simon, his hand flying across the page as he wrote. There was an eerie silence as Roger carried on as Simon stewed in his anger. Ralph had been gone for three bloody days, and even Nathan didn't know where his darling baby brother had gone, which had only ever happened once before.

"Roger." Simon scowled. Silence.

"Roger." More silence.

"Roger!" Simon snapped irritably.

"What do you want, Simon?" Roger muttered, not looking up.

"Roger, it's been three days." Simon said pointedly, earning a snort and roll of the eyes.

"How observant." Roger deadpanned, frowning down at his paper.

"Nathan is going to strangle us if we don't find him." Simon replied snippily.

"That would be too merciful." Roger replied.

"Ralph could be starving in a ditch somewhere." Simon hissed.

"Like hell he would, his body physically rejects even the idea of being dirty." Roger said, casting a glance over at Simon.

"Goddamnit, Roger, just go find him already!" Simon snarled, glaring murderously at the studious sadist. Roger - who had gone back to his work - looked over at Simon and glared right back. "Don't pretend for even a second that I haven't been looking for him, Garrot. If I knew where the hell he was I would have brought him back already," he snarled viciously. "You're mad, _I get it_, it's my fault, _I'm fucking sorry_, but I don't know where the hell he's gone! You sitting here bitching at me isn't going to get his happy ass back here any faster!" He barked, snapping his notebook shut and gathering his belongings. If this bothered Simon any, he did not show it as he rolled his eyes and stood up himself. "Ninety percent of the time it's you that finds him, Davies, so I'm sorry for hoping that you would have any inclination as to where to look." Simon said icily. "Sure, there are expectations for your navigational skills, but that doesn't mean you can just give up when it starts to piss people off." he said pointedly, voice eerily calm.

Roger looked ready to rip Simon limb from limb.

"_Give up?_" he said, staring at the short choir boy incredulously. "At exactly what point did I give up? I've spent every goddamn moment of my free time looking for him, Simon! I haven't slept more than a few hours in the last three fucking days because I've been trying to find him!" he screamed, not caring in the least that he had the attention of everyone on the first floor of the school. "I'm sorry if I'm not living up to your fucking _expectations_, but give me a goddamn break! I've had you, Jack, Nathan, all of the professors, the principle, and Ralph's parents breathing down my neck for the last thee days because I can't make him appear out of thin air! I am not a fucking magician, Simon!" he snarled, stormy green eyes flashing lividly. "You're all worried about him, I get it, but Jesus Christ, everyone just needs to leave me the hell alone already!" and with that he stuffed his belongings into his bag and stormed off, cursing under his breath as he went.

Simon merely rolled his eyes and snorted. "He only hides where he knows you'll find him." he muttered.

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><p>Meanwhile, in the farthest attic, of the tallest tower, of the most abandoned part of the school, Ralph shivered violently and whimpered. He'd managed to get stuck in the same attic that had trapped him once before, but it would seem that he was in for a longer stay this time. In his haste to flee from Nathan's protective mother henning, he had run to the attics... Forgetting completely about the faulty door. If he had to guess, he would say that he'd been stuck there for the better part of a day, cold and miserable. During the time that he spent up there, he'd been pondering what had happened with Roger, wondering what he really thought about it... Part of him wanted Roger to come and find him, but at the same time part of him didn't. He didn't want to even think about talking about what had happened... Or his reaction. He wanted to just get out of the attic and go to bed... He was so tired, but he had to stay awake! He had long since exhausted and injured himself trying to open the door, but had had no luck. He hand't even gotten it to budge! Thinking back on his injury, he looked down at his arm and cringed. Wrapped up in a moth eaten cloth, rust colored sploches of oxidized blood colored the vague white fabric. It wasn't a deep wound in itself, but it had taken longer than he would have liked to stop the bleeding. He'd been trying to break the door when his weapon of choice - a rather abused looking metal coat rack - fell apart. He was lucky he hadn't punctured his lung with it, really. The blonde shivered and curled up closer to himself, wishing desperately that someone would come find him soon.<p>

At this point, he wouldn't even mind being saved by Jack... Though, noble as he was, Jack had the misfortune to generally find him when he was asleep, which always resulted in either a black eye or a broken nose. With a heavy sigh, Ralph cradled his arm and frowned over at the door, shivering again. "I never should have left." he lamented, shaking uncontrollably. It was so cold up here...

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><p>Jack had only just fallen asleep when the door to the shared dorm room was all but kicked down, making an awful slamming as it collided with the wall. The redhead groaned as he opened his eyes to look over at Roger, and instantly flinched back. If he was being honest, he could quite easily say that he hadn't ever seen him quite this mad... "Roger?" he said cautiously, furrowing his brows. If Roger heard him, he did not show it. Jack sighed heavily and rubbed his face with his hands before standing up to go and try to offer some support so his friend wouldn't go on a killing spree. "Roger-"<p>

"What?" Roger snapped, glaring viciously at Jack. This, of course, had no affect, as he was subjected to this glare quite often. Instead, Jack frowned and walked forward, setting a hand on each of Roger's shoulders, and looked him in the eye. "I want you to listen very closely, and do exactly as I tell you." he said. Roger considered smacking him for a moment, but nodded instead. "Take a deep breath." Roger begrudgingly did as he was told. "Again." Roger felt like a dog, but took another deep breath. They did this until Roger seemed a little less lethal, at which point, Jack grinned and strangled the noirette in a hug. "Jack, let go of me." Roger hissed, frowning. He was most displeased. "Nope."

"Jack, you have three seconds before I break your arms."

"Hug me back and I will let you go."

"Jack, you idiot let- What? No!"

"Huuuug meeeeeeee!"

"Three."

"Aw, c'mon!"

"Two."

"Just once?"

"No."

"But-"

"No."

"Aww, you're no fun!"

"...**Fine**." Jack was most pleased when he got his hug, and released Roger, as promised.

"Speak of it and I will cut you." Roger muttered, folding his arms across his chest. "Nobody would believe me, anyway." Jack pointed out, to which Roger shrugged and nodded. "Now, what was it that Simon said to upset you so much?" Jack frowned. Roger sighed and shook his head, sitting down heavily on his bed. "Everybody expects me to find Ralph in three seconds, like it's the easiest thing in the world, but it isn't..." Roger muttered. Scooting back to lean against the wall, he pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. "Almost every time I end up just stumbling across his hiding spots... It's not even like I know where to look," he murmured. He looked down at his knees, avoiding Jack's gaze as he bore his troubles to him. Jack sighed heavily and sat on the edge of the bed, offering a weary smile. "Well if you happen to just stumble upon them, maybe it's time to stop thinking so much about where he could be and just wander around." Jack shrugged. Roger opened his mouth to protest, but Jack held up a hand and shook his head. "I know you, Roger, you like to find the details in everything. You love solving problems, being analytical, and cracking puzzles, but there are some problems that can't be solved that way." Jack said simply. "You're good at finding Ralph, Roger, you really are, but you need to stop worrying so much. He'll turn up, because you'll end up finding him, like always." the redhead grinned.

Roger stared at Jack for a moment before looking back down at his knees, nodding a little. "Yeah..." he mumbled, hiding his face in his knees. Jack sighed gently and scooted back to lean against the wall as well, wrapping an arm around his shoulders gingerly. "It's my fault, Jack... It's all my fault..." Roger choked out miserably, not looking up. "What is?" Jack asked, furrowing his brows. "It's my fault that he's missing, Jack. He ran off because of me... I'm sorry... I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." he said, his voice fading into something inaudible. Shudders of sorrow shook Roger's frame as Jack sat there with him, and for a long time it did not register what was happening. Jack was confused, to say the least, as he looked over at Roger, who was curled up as tightly as possible, but then realization hit like a brick wall.

Roger... Was crying.

For the first time in all of the years that Jack had known him, Roger was actually crying... Jack felt a suffocating wave of sorrow wash over him at this realization, and he turned to his friend, and he could feel his heart break. To the normal person, it wouldn't have occured to them that Roger was physically capable of any other emotion than vicious, but to Jack it was painful. To think that people were just making him so miserable, while all he did was blame himself for this... "Roger, it's okay, it's okay... We'll find him, I promise." Jack said gently as he hugged him tightly. "Don't worry... We'll find him."

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><p>AN: That's all for now~!

I hope you enjoyed it!

Sorry to leave on such a sad note, but... I've gotta go to bed.

please review and let me know how it turned out~

I'll have the next chapter up soon, promise!


	10. Hypothermia

Hypothermia

Summary: In which Jack tries to comfort Roger, Roger suppresses his feelings, Simon has a bitch fit competition with Nathan, Roger finds Ralph, and Ralph is an emotional, hypothermatic mess.

A/N: Sorry it's been a bit since the last update, I've been away from the computer for a while. But I haven't abandoned you, I promise!

Warnings: Lessie, cursing (anybody noticed that this is in like… All of them?), arguments of a terrifying caliber, near death situations (sort of), feelings, not so feely-feelings, crushed feelings, and fluff (also in everything).

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies.

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><p>It had been about ten minutes after Simon had completely crushed Roger's will to put up with anybody. In those ten minutes, Simon came to the conclusion that he was supposed to feel bad, to regret having said something… Or to at least feel a little sorry, but he didn't. It wasn't that he didn't want to, either, because this was quite an alarming conclusion… But he simply didn't feel anything about it, one way or another. He'd left the cafeteria, in favor of wandering around in his thoughts as he came to his conclusion, but soon found Nathan, via running into him. Literally.<p>

Nathan had been standing in the middle of the hallway, frowning down at a scrap of paper he'd found in his room. Ralph had scrawled something on it before he'd ran off, and Nathan had been trying to decide if it was because of haste that it was so messy, or if Ralph had been drunk from hell to high water. It looked like something one would expect to see after setting an infant lose on a wall with crayons. Luckily for Nathan, however, he was fluent in Ralph's 'I'm running away, please for the love of God just leave me _alone_' notes, and he was able to read what it said. Still, he was vexed.

Simon grumbled under his breath as Nathan turned to stare down at him apprehensively scowling right back at him, ignoring him as he pulled himself up. "Well, hello." Nathan rolled his eyes, earning a snort from Simon. "Hello to you too." Simon said poisonously. "You haven't seen Ralph around, have you?" Nathan asked nonchalantly, eyes narrowed venomously. The calm before the storm... Regardless of the warning, and paying no mind to the one, true answer to this question, Simon answered shamelessly. "No, Nathan, I haven't seen him yet, and from what I've been told, you haven't either."

Wrong answer.

Nathan smiled pleasantly, the look dripping with homicidal intent, and steepled his fingers calculatingly. It was then that Simon new that he had just trapped himself into a very tight corner of a game of cat and mouse, in which he was the prey. "Funny, isn't it how out of the three of you - Merridew, yourself and... _Davies_ - that you have yet to have found Ralph even once?" Nathan said, raising his eyebrows in teasing question. "Doesn't it get boring, being completely useless all the time?" he questioned. "To be the one that never yields any fruitful results? Even Jack has found him, though it's never ended well for him." he continued. "I may not like this Davies brat that Ralph has fallen in love with, but at least he can _attempt_ to redeem himself by being able to reliably find him ninety-eight percent of the time." Nathan hissed, grey eyes narrowed maliciously at the shorter choir boy.

Simon did his best not to bristle at this... Not to let it get under his skin... He even bit his tongue to keep himself from saying something... But he couldn't help it. In the span of three seconds Nathan went from standing - pacing, rather - to being perched on the ground, flat on his ass, glaring murderously back at Simon as he held his now aching jaw. Anger rolled off of Simon in palpable waves as he slowly unclenched his fist, pulling his arm back to his side, and standing up straight once more. It took a moment for everything to settle in, but in the seconds that the two locked eyes, everything became clear.

One did not simply punch Nathan Kirkland in the face.

Everything blurred together as Simon peeled off down the hall, completely aware of the fact that Nathan was hot on his heels, fully ready to tear him limb from limb. He was half convinced that everything had even simply ceased to be at that point, and he was just running through nothingness. Until he rounded a corner - followed closely by Nathan, and ran into someone that Roger would swear was the Devil himself... Jason Davies.

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><p>Jack had spent the better part of an hour trying to console Roger, to which Roger's natural reaction was to viciously try and hide all of the bottled up emotions, and Jack let him. He sure as hell didn't want to be the one that got to be around for <em>that<em> sharing hour... Presently, however, Roger had managed to pull himself back together, and if it looked like anything had happened in the past hour, nobody would be the wiser, aside from Jack. Or another of the Davies children... But both would rather chew off their own arm than have anything to do with one another. The last time that Roger and Jason had spoken to each other was when their mother had drug all of her children back home for the winter holidays.

Five minutes in, it was armageddon in the Davies household, and they had both ended up spending the week in the hospital. Their mother, the oldest, and the youngest of the Davies children had spent the week running back and forth between hospital rooms, scolding and worrying. But there wasn't anything to worry about, since Jason was always too busy being moody or pretentious to be bothered with anything. So, it was on that note that Roger left to go and give Ralph hunting another try. He wanted to think over the places that he hadn't been yet, to try and crack the puzzle of where he was... But he simply took a deep breath and set to wandering. He hadn't even been sure where he was when he heard a banging coming from... The ceiling?

Avoiding the dust that was shaking down from the door frame of an attic, Roger frowned up at the ceiling sceptically and bit his lip. It couldn't be... Could it? He hadn't been up to the attics in years... But, who else would be up there? "Ralph?" he called, watching as the dust floated down. For a moment the dust paused in its descent to the ground. "Ralph?" Roger called again, going over and reaching up to the door. Ralph, on the inside, abandoned the bit of wooden crate that he had been using to beat the door, and pressed his ear against it. "Roger?" he called, though his voice sounded, well, awful.

For hours Ralph had called out for help, despite knowing that it was going to be fairly useless, and had nearly screamed himself hoarse. Roger frowned at what sounded like gravel in a blender, and set to work on pulling the ladder to the attic down. "Hang on, I'm coming." was all Roger said as Ralph scooted back a bit, biting his lip in nervous anticipation. He was finally getting out of here! But, the last time he'd seen Roger... For a moment, Ralph felt nauseous, and the feeling only worsened as the door to the attic pushed open - pausing as dust was shaken loose - before revealing a pair of stormy green eyes just over the edge of the doorway.

Ralph hadn't realized that he looked like a deer in the headlights, Roger decided, for in the better part of two minutes that he spent opening the door fully, locking it into place, and moving to sit at the top of the ladder, Ralph's expression didn't change a bit. He hadn't even blinked, which was quickly becoming more and more concerning. "Ralph...?" Roger called gently, waving a hand in front of his face. Nothing. Roger tried poking him a bit, but that offered no response, and neither did manually switching Ralph's position. So, with Ralph spacilly slumped against his arm, Roger considered his alternatives. It would seem that they all had this internal switch that would flip when the mental computer decided to poot, and the reboot was never an enjoyable experience.

In Jack's case of mental pooting, Simon would kiss him, Ralph would pour a large bucket of ice down his shirt, and Roger would simply leave him to reboot himself.

In Simon's case, one had to grope him, after which they would get smacked... So, naturally it was left to Jack.

In Roger's case, it was best to leave him be. Jack had committed this to memory quickly after just barely escaping several broken bones.

In Ralph's case, however, Roger was pretty much shit out of luck for ideas, because none of them knew. He didn't have any ice, and he couldn't just _leave_ him like that - who knows how long it would take for him to snap out of it? - which left him with Simon's preferred method. Roger cringed and looked over at Ralph guiltily as this occurred to him, and he felt his stomach sink. It was a kiss that had landed them here... Ralph had been gone for **days** because of it... Needless to say, it wasn't the sort of reaction that one would have hoped for. Roger stared at the door to the attic - if only to avoid further guilt by looking at Ralph - and pondered to himself over his options, and their morals. Half of them, Ralph would never forgive him for, he was certain, and almost all of them he had no intention of doing, to begin with. He pondered over what he could get away with, what his explanations would be, and yada, yada, yada... He pondered for so long that by the time Ralph had recovered, Roger nearly shot out of his skin at the sudden sound of Ralph's voice, tired and miserable, filled the air.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" came the dazed, rasped out question.

It was as if every part of Roger stood on end, though he had not moved from his sitting space, despite being startled. There was a distinct hammering in his chest, a vicious drumming on the inside of his ribcage that brought him back down to earth and out of his thoughts. For a long time, Roger didn't say anything as he reassembled his thoughts, trying to recollect his words. Ralph imagined the contents of Roger's head to be something like a clock work machine, with a little boggle box in the middle of everything. Alas, even the most intricate things in the world always have one little tic that can mess everything up. Ralph was patient - though in the haze that filled his head, the passage of time was of little consequence - as Roger collected himself, falling into a none to gentle coughing fit.

Whether it was Roger's '_maternal_' instincts, or the fact that he'd pulled all his thoughts back together at last, the coughing caught his attention and instantly set to work. Ralph had barely just regained his breathing ability by the time Roger had essentially assessed the cause and treatments for all, and was presently examining his arm. "Jesus, Ralph, what in god's name did you do?" Roger murmured, frowning down at the ragged flesh, oozing miserably and caked in dried blood. Ralph shivered in response, leaning against Roger once more and closed his eyes for a moment. His head was filled with a thick fog, and every time he tried to look at something, to focus on it and think, his vision swam and he couldn't help but feel nauseous. "Do... What?" Ralph frowned, shivering against Roger. He couldn't help it... It was just so cold, and Roger was so _warm. _

If anything else was said, Ralph didn't hear it. All he could register was vague movements, and then warmth. Beautiful, wonderful, glorious warmth that wrapped around him. It did nothing to stop his shivering, he could feel his muscles shaking in protest to the cold air that lay just outside of this warm whatever, but he couldn't do anything about it. He was just too tired... He tried to open his eyes, to look over at Roger and see if he really was there, but the darkness of sleep took him away before he had the chance.

Getting Ralph down the ladder and out of the attic itself was no problem, neither was finding the nurse, or calling paramedics. It all seemed to pass by in a blur, actually, and Roger had already made a third phone call to very relieved parents - Jack's? They seemed to have a natural capacity for caring - before he'd registered what exactly had happened. Ralph's parents were already off to go and see him, as well as his own mother, and a handful of the Merridew clan. Roger thought they seemed more like a cult, sometimes, and Jack didn't deny it. The only problem would be finding Nathan and breaking the news to him... Naturally, they assigned Roger this job, completely ignoring the several objects that he'd just narrowly missed hitting them with in protest.

It didn't get him out of it, unfortunately, but the did promise to over look it if he went and delivered the message, because they sure as hell didn't want to do it either. "It could be worse?" the secretary, a vast woman, with frizzy brown hair and horn rimmed glasses offered. Roger looked at her as if she'd just acquired six extra heads. "Now, there's no need to look like that, they could be sending you off to go and play nice with you're older brother." she pointed out. Roger shot the secretary a glare so cold, one could have sworn the room temperature dropped a few degrees. "I don't have an older brother." he snarled viciously, stalking out of the office furiously. One could almost visibly see the angry rolling off of him as he went. The secretary - a Mrs. Barns - sighed and shook her head sadly, clicking her tongue softly. "What happened to separate those two I'll _never_ know."

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><p>AN: That's all for now, thank you for reading!


	11. Assult and Battery

Assult and battery

Summary: In which Simon meets Jason, Roger tries to kill Jason, and a potential subplot is hinted at (only if you squint). Also, Ralph squicks out, his parents argue, and Jack goes to make sure he's alright.

Warnings: violence, cursing, intense moments, and parental arguing.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies

A/N: I've got free time to update again!

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><p>It did not take Roger long to find Nathan, surprisingly, because he was about as hard to find as Ralph most of the time. However, upon finding Nathan, he also found Simon and Jason. The three people at the very top of his shit list, all in one place. "Oh, for fucksake." Roger sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Simon had the decency to remain silent as Roger cursed under his breath, just barely escaping being strangled by Nathan, who was almost too busy glaring daggers at Jason to notice. Jason, who had been previously glowering at Nathan, looked over to Roger and the thick, intense silence that fell over all of them couldn't have been cut , even with a chainsaw. "I found Ralph," he began, which caught Simon and Nathan's attention quickly. Granted, the elder of the Kirkland children shot a glare at Jason before turning to Roger, but it was ignored for the most part.<p>

"Where was he?" Nathan asked, fighting to keep the usual tone of seething anger out of his voice. He always at least _tried_ to be civil towards Roger after the rescue, and in some way Roger appreciated it. Granted, it wasn't a lasting thing, but civilities towards Roger never seemed to last for very long. "In the attics… _Again_." Roger sighed, ignoring the malicious glare from his brother. If looks could kill, it would have been enough to cause Rasputin to burst into flames on the spot. "Was it the one that he got locked in last time?" Nathan asked warily, feeling a pang of guilt. He did not linger on it. "The same." Roger nodded. Shifting into a less lethal position, Simon managed to locate his voice box, and braced himself, because he knew that he was definitely not in Roger's good graces. "Is he alright?" Simon asked.

Roger emulated Jason's glare. "No." he hissed bitterly, causing Nathan to tense and Jason to perk an eyebrow. Simon held his tongue as he felt several rather vicious retorts flare to life, sitting patiently as he waited for him to continue. "After getting stuck, he squicked out and tried to escape, but ended up only hurting himself. It was also about twenty degrees and he would've gotten hypothermia if I hadn't found him." Roger explained, offering no reaction to the varied expressions. Jason's glare had cooled off to a frigid glower, Simon was having trouble trying to decide how he felt, and Nathan was back to vicious, as per usual.

"Still chasing after him, then?" Jason said before Nathan could comment, earning a murderous look from both Roger and Nathan. Simon looked from the two over to Jason, who seemed rather unaffected by the glaring. "Wait, sorry, I've missed something _obviously, _but who are you?" Simon asked, looking over to Jason. The elder Davies looked over at Simon quizzically, almost nonchalantly. "What? Roger hasn't told you about me?" he asked, though he knew the answer. Simon glanced over at Roger, only to find him glowering, not necessarily at him, but in his general direction. It was going to be a long, _long_ time before Roger talked to him again, he could tell. Turning back to Jason, Simon shook his head, pushing himself out of Nathan's reach.

"Well, he's got his reasons." Jason shrugged, shifting into a more upright position. "But it's mostly because I'm his brother." Simon looked surprised, to say the least, but didn't have a chance to say anything before Roger snorted in indignation. "You say that like you were _ever _a part of my family." Roger said icily, causing Simon to look over to him. Jason seemed unfazed by this, but Nathan knew better. He caught the small, easily missable tick of irritation. "You say that like you still care." Jason returned coolly, smiling grimly. Roger was quickly losing the will to keep from causing the need for a second hospital trip.

Hospital… Ralph! Roger shot a look over to Nathan and ground out, "Ralph's at the hospital with your parents. You should go check on him." Nathan visibly prickled and hissed under his breath angrily, but gave a curt nod all the same. Simon watched as Nathan stood and slipped away, almost eager to follow, but thought better of it. Nathan would still rip his head off, regardless of the time it would take away from making sure Ralph was alright. Being stuck with two angry Davies children, however, did not look like it was going to yield a better result.

"I don't give a flying fuck as to whether or not you still think you're a part of my family. I care about the fact that you wreck everything you touch, and that you've caused my mother nothing but pain." Roger folded his arms across his chest. Simon frowned, scooting away a little, cautious and wary of what was about to o down. He knew, from past stories from Jack, that if he left the two of them alone, they would not hesitate to rip each other apart. Jason laughed darkly and shook his head. "Me? What about _you?_" he said, teasing. "You've managed to cause mother more pain single handedly than I ever have." he continued, watching as Roger tensed. Jason disregarded the warning in his glare easily and went on, eager to let the cat out of the bag. He knew that Nathan's latest victim was listening, and painfully curious.

"You almost killed her at birth, you selfish bastard." Jason snapped, now standing as well. Roger winced, but said nothing, already knowing what Jason would say. He knew that he was just trying to provoke him… But goddamnit! Why the hell did he have to be so good at getting to him? "You were always running off, and it would scare her half to death. Dad too…" Jason said, and instantly Simon knew that a very serious line had just been crossed. "Don't." Roger barked, and suddenly everything grew colder, freezing Simon in his huddled up position. Jason merely sneered and shook his head, wanting to inflict as much damage as possible. "It's still your fault that he's dead. If you hadn't been there, father would still be alive… It should have been you." Simon just barely bolted out of his position before the battle began, and was flying through the hallways, desperate to find help.

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><p>AN: That's all for now, thank you for reading!


	12. Falling apart at the seams

Falling apart at the seams

A/N: In which we meet some parentals, experience the cuddly side of Jack Merridew, and sort of skip out on Ralph being able to form words.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies

Warnings: Language, mild fluff, and emotions.

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><p>By the time that Simon had found enough people to come and save Jason from being beaten to death by Roger, assessed the damage, phoned an ambulance, and made sure that the two of them were not lumped together, Ralph was just waking up. He'd been out for a while now, and was more alright than not, but the doctors wanted to keep an eye on him, since he still could not be cleared for a clean bill of health. For a while, he simply stared at the sterile, blindingly white walls of the hospital room that he was in, listening to the beeping of the monitors and the footsteps of the doctors. Nathan was there, he knew, because he could feel someone holding his hand between their own. He flicked his gaze over to the window to the hallway and found his parents arguing – screaming, really – and sighed.<p>

His head hurt. He wanted to just go back to sleep… But Nathan knew that he was awake. Resisting the urge to simply let his eyes roll to the back of his head, Ralph strained to look over at Nathan, who seemed to be lost in thought. He frowned lightly, only vaguely remembering the last time that Nathan had looked so pensive, but did not dwell on it. It was hard enough to just be awake right now, much less go digging through memories. Ralph blamed all the drugs that they'd shot into his system. Ralph let his eyes slide shut, reveling in the darkness of closed lids, sighing. Without realizing it, he gingerly let his hand gasp one of Nathan's own; a groggy attempt at reassurance. Nathan blinked for the first time in what felt like hours and cringed a little before looking down at Ralph, who looked… Well, _dreadful_.

Sure, he looked better than he _had_, but in no way was he even close to being back to normal. He was as pale as a sheet and looked completely exhausted. A light fever heated his skin, flushing his cheeks a ruddy shade of red, and he didn't seem to stay awake for more than a few minutes. On one arm was a thick gauze bandage, and on the other there was an I.V. drip, along with several other tubes and wires. Nathan sighed gently and let his thumb gingerly rub over the back of Ralph's hand as he looked to the hallway window as well. Their parents had been screaming at each other since they'd heard that Ralph had run off, even more now that he'd been found. Their father was genuinely worried about his youngest child, while their mother was more concerned about the schoolwork he'd missed and the hospital bills. The fact that Ralph was ill didn't seem to even phase her.

However, it would seem that their father had had enough, because he walked away from the batty woman and into the hospital room where Ralph lay dazedly and Nathan perched worriedly. The elder of the two wondered cautiously what had become of the two Davies children and the Garrot child after his departure, wincing a bit as he thought of Jason. He could almost guarantee that there was a fight, it was inevitable, but he couldn't help but wonder how badly they had wounded each other. And what if Simon had gotten caught up in it? Sure, he was a bit miffed at the kid, but he wouldn't wish that particular caliber of rage upon anyone. Alexander Kirkland, their father, was careful not to disturb Nathan from his thoughts as he perched beside his children, smiling tiredly. "Hey, Ralphy," he murmured, pressing the back of his fingers lightly against Ralph's cheek.

With labored effort, the wrinkling of a nose, and the furrowing of eyebrows, Ralph's eyes rolled forward and slid open. He stared blankly at his father for the longest time, not registering who it was that sat beside him. Ralph hummed thoughtfully as his eyes closed again, leaning into the touch slightly as he tried to think. His father laughed softly, and Ralph managed a slow smile, though his eyes did not open again. "You're home?" he asked softly, his voice coming out harsh and awful. "I am," his father murmured, smiling gingerly. "For a little while, at least. I'll have to go again soon," he sighed. Ralph hummed again, for lack of a better response, and his father laughed again before all was quiet. For hours they were content to sit there, merely enjoying being together, even if they were sleeping, or thinking things over.

In a different part of the hospital, Simon was pacing in the waiting room, a set of icy blue eyes trailing him patiently. "You'll wear out the floor at this rate, Simon." Jack commented, frowning lightly. Simon did not hesitate in the slightest and instead shot him a look. "Are they all like this? Do they all try and kill each other at the drop of a hat?" Simon questioned, turning to Jack. Jack , in turn, smiled a bit and shook his head. "No, the rest of the Davies' are surprisingly normal. It's just Roger and Jason that have it out for one another." Jack shrugged. He couldn't help but remember the first time he'd been in the Davies household. Roger's mother, Alison, was the sweetest person in the world. Jack was certain that there was no heart strong enough to resist melting upon being around her. The scent of baked goods had been thick in the air, and upon walking in, she offered him cookies that were just cooled from being in the oven. That was the day that Jack learned that Roger genuinely enjoyed baking with his mother.

At the time, Roger's older sister Nina still had yet to go off to Uni, and she had come in to help them ice the little cakes and make tea. After everything was iced and the tea was made, she'd helped him and Roger take everything out into the garden, which was always blooming with flowers. At the time, it was mostly the handy work of Nicholas, Roger's father, but now it was tended by Roger. He insisted that it was only because the fence looked awful without something covering it all up, but Jack knew better. He knew that Roger missed his father. Once they had set everything up in the garden, Nina, Roger, their mother, and himself all gathered around and sat at the little table, talking and laughing. It had been an absolutely lovely day.

"Are there more? Siblings, I mean." Simon questioned, shaking Jack from his thoughts. "Yes, there are two more. The oldest is Nina, but she's off building film sets, so we don't see her much," Jack said, frowning a little. "And the youngest is Alexander, and he doesn't say much. He looks a lot like Roger, though." he shrugged. Simon frowned at Jack and sighed heavily, going back to pacing for a moment. It was Jack's turn to frown now, as he wondered if Simon truly understood just how mad Roger was. Not just at Simon, but with just about everybody, considering all of the awful things that they had done and said. With a heavy sigh, Jack stood and walked over to where Simon was pacing anxiously, and captured the short choir boy in a hug. "Calm down, Simon, it will be alright," he murmured, completely unfazed by the mumbled threats. Simon was a bit like an uncooperative puppy, wriggling and trying to escape stubbornly, but Jack had the lanky noodle arms of steel. Naturally, he was in no mood to try and keep himself from acting like a twelve year old girl over all this… _Whatever_ in yet, he knew that Jack was right.

"It was Jason that got the worst of it anyway." Jack offered, thoughtfully, resisting the urge to smile as Simon gave up and curled into him. "I couldn't tell... There was too much blood to really see anything properly." Simon said quietly, suddenly glad to be trapped in Jack's arms. Simon had never been one for gore, even in movies, but seeing it so up close and personal… Well, it had a horrid affect. He'd been extremely patient, waiting until after they'd pried apart the homicidal siblings and sent them off to the hospital to pass out. He'd woken up about two hours ago in Jack's lap, perched in the hospital waiting room. Simon's first reaction had been to punch him, which he did, before demanding to know where Ralph and Roger had been put.

As of yet, they were still patching up both of the Davies children and Ralph was resting. He hadn't said a word when they went in to see him, though Jack said that was to be expected. He was ill, and he wasn't usually very talkative after they hunted him down anyways. Ralph's mother had glared at them through the window the entire time, not entering even once to check on her fevering child. It turned out that the arrival of the Kirkland parentals had been a quiet affair, in comparison to the uproar that occurred when Roger's mother came to see Ralph. She merely wanted to bring the boy some flowers and wish him well, but Anita – Ralph's mother – was going to have none of that. The screech of protest that came from Anita Kirkland was so voluminous and terrifying that it woke Ralph, nearly startled Simon out of his skin, and caused Nathan, Jack, and Johnathan – Ralph's father – to all cringe.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Anita barked viciously.

"Just going in to say hello and wish Ralph well." Alison said easily, completely unaffected by the inhuman scream. This was generally the greeting that she got when it came to Anita.

"Over my dead body." Anita hissed, scowling ominously. "I've had it with all the strange things that happen to my boys when your children are involved"

Alison frowned and looked at the flowers in her hands for a moment before laughing. "Oh, really? And why is that? It was my boy that found Ralph in the first place, always finds him." She said, looking back to Anita. "Would you rather that Roger hadn't found him, Anita? Do you even understand what would have happened to him if he hadn't been found?" She scowled.

"I know what wouldn't have happened if he had been found earlier." Anita had said coolly.

Now, normally, Alison usually was never one to let herself get ruffled by simple words, but Anita Kirkland had made it her specialty to get under her skin. Alison had fixed her with a cold stare that would cripple that of Roger's any day, and forced a smile. "Maybe if you weren't so suffocating and certifiably insane then your children would not feel the need to try and run away." she had suggested frigidly, her tone calm and gentle. Much like Roger when he was seconds away from biting someone's head off as viciously as possible.

Anita had had the decency to look mildly offended by this, but if it truly bothered her, she hadn't shown it. "Better to have them running away than to have them being tried for attempted homicide, no?" She had said, smiling wickedly. She enjoyed trying to watch Alison squirm.

"They have done nothing to you, Anita Kirkland. They are the reason that your children are alive, and you damn well know it," Alison had growled, looking for all the world like an angry animal getting ready to pounce. "But you can't even pretend to play the role of the worried mother because I am willing to bet that you haven't set foot in that room even once to go and see Ralph. Why should you? You didn't even bother to show up at the hospital when it was Nathan," Alison had said, not bothering to hide the look of disgust that crossed her pretty features. "Jason had tried to come and see him, but you had told the doctors not to let him in," she had hissed, cornering Anita, who suddenly was not enjoying the game of cat and mouse anymore. She was not the cat... She had _never_ been the cat. "It didn't seem to matter, though. He came by every damn day, begging them to let him in, and in the end he always had to walk out more heartbroken than the day before. Nathan was his best friend, Anita, and after what happened to them he was terrified of what would happen to Nathan." she had continued, leading up to the conclusion grimly. "The reason that they stopped talking was because of you, Anita, and I swear to God that if you try and do the same thing to Roger, it will not be my children that are wanted for homicide." she had said bluntly, daring her to try and say otherwise. "I will not let you ruin their lives even more than you already have."

After that, Alison hadn't said anything more to Anita, and Anita had left quickly, not even sparring a glance at Ralph through the window as she passed. Upon entering the room, Alison had almost instantly regained her warm, loving and gentle composure, and had even sung to Ralph to dissipate the tension. Nathan, however, had not been in the room when everything went down, and had heard everything clearly. He had watched as his mother had walked right past him, just as dazed as he felt, and simply stood there. He'd forgotten what he had been doing, or where he had been going, one thought stuck going through his head.

Jason _had_ come to see him.

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><p>AN: That's all for now! I'll update soon, I promise!

Please leave me reviews and let me know what you think!


	13. Back to the drawing board

Back to the drawing board

Summary: In which we visit several people in and out of the hospital.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies

Warnings: Angst, fluff, and other stuff.

A/N: I am sorry it took a while to post this, but hopefully the next chapter will be up soon!

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><p>To say that Roger hated hospitals would have been putting it lightly. He would have to be bleeding from both ears before he even considered going to a doctor's office, much less the hospital. So, upon finding himself in the hospital, he couldn't help that he was as cooperative as an exorcism victim. Needless to say, they quickly discovered that drugging him was not only helpful, but the only way that anything was going to get done. Simon had tried to tell them this as they were climbing into the ambulance, but they hadn't paid him any mind and had all received several stab wounds because of it.<p>

But it couldn't be helped, it was his natural reaction. After all, the last time he'd had to go to the hospital in an actual ambulance was the last time he'd seen his father. Roger had been conscious for an hour, but it was an hour more until the drugs wore off enough for him to be cognizant. The nurses had been wise and had strapped him down, trapping him in the hospital bed. No member of the Davies family had ever been good at bed rest, particularly when injured, no matter how hard they might try. Upon waking up fully, nurses began to flood in, asking him questions, poking and prodding at him. Naturally, this was not something that was appreciated, and Roger thanked any deity that was willing to listen when his mother come in and shooed them away.

"Hello, poppit," She hummed gently, perching carefully next to him on the bed. Roger tried a smile, if only for her sake, but found that he simply couldn't. Alison understood, offering a warm smile of her own as she wrapped her arms around her injured son. Roger returned the affection, feeling comforted by the warm presence of his mother, in spite of being in the hospital. "What did he say, love?" she asked gently, feeling Roger tense. For a long time, he said nothing, frowning to himself as he replayed the entirety of the scene in his head. He'd always known that Jason had wanted nothing to do with him from the start, that he had and would always hate his mere existence, but even after years and years of it… It still bothered him. When he was small, Jason used to always try to convince their parents to put him up for adoption, coming up with reasons for why _he_ should have nearly died at birth as opposed to their mother nearly dying… It only got worse after their father died.

_Roger had been four at the time, and it was hard to find a sweeter, more innocent child. Despite how awful Jason always was, he would always worry about him, because he always seemed to be running off and getting himself into trouble. It was on one of those nights, in which Jason found himself in a particularly large amount of trouble, that it happened. Around eleven thirty at night they had gotten a call from the hospital – around the same time that the Kirkland house hold was receiving a similar call – stating that Jason was on his way to the hospital and would be put into intensive care. Seeing as it was his mother who had answered the phone, the house was stirring with fright three seconds after the call ended. It seemed that every light in the house was on at once, and all that could be heard was shouted conversation and a frantic search for car keys._

_Nicholas was better at keeping a level head than Alison was, and had made sure that she and Nina were out the door and safely on their way to the hospital before going off to find Roger. Roger had never quite been one to take kindly to being woken up in the middle of the night, so he was a bit grumpy at first, but let it go easily as his father scooped him up and walked out of the room. He had been half awake as they got into the car, so he didn't remember too much of the time span before, but he could remember when he'd woken up. _

_It was only seconds before his father made him duck down, and blanketed him in his arms protectively. He remembered the sound of the windshield shattering, the sound metal rods that were on the back of an enormous eight-teen wheeler raining down on and into the truck mercilessly, the far off screams of other people who had gotten caught in this mess… He could remember the cool night hair drifting in front he shattered windows, the groaning of the vehicles as they slowed to a stop. He wasn't sure at what point he'd deemed it okay to open his eyes again, or for how long they'd been stuck there, but all he could do was scream when he saw all of the blood. His father was breathing shakily and shallowly, and though Roger didn't know it at the time, several of the metal rods had shot through the now gaping hole that was once a windshield and made a home in Nicholas' body. The screaming, terrified child was given a silent answer as Nicholas had forced himself to lift his head, "Roger," he'd said gently, looking over to his youngest with tired green eyes. "Roger, it's alright, you're alright." He'd murmured. He'd said this over and over, cradling the frightened boy in his arms tightly as he wailed. _

_It was then that, quietly, he had begun to sing. It was a lullaby, written just for Roger, and it had always made him feel better whenever he was hurt or upset or frightened. Nicholas had written one for all of his children, even little Alexander who had – at the time – been due in seven months. Roger was not fooled, however, he knew that the wavering in his father's voice was not a good sign. He'd wanted to tell him that there was something wrong, that it wasn't alright, but he knew better than to dash his father's efforts to calm him. So he had been cooperative and quieted as his father sang, trembling, listening for someone – anyone –to call for help._

_Roger was unaware of how much time had passed when he saw flashing lights, but he could no longer force himself to remain silent. He'd screamed and screamed, unable to stop when the sound of someone trying to pry open the door reached him. For a long time, everything had been quiet, only the sound of breathing piercing the silence, but now everything was alive and livid with noise. The people that pried them out of the car were overwhelmingly loud, as well as all of the sirens and machines and loud speakers and rushing ambulances. They had fit the two of them in one ambulance, and sped off, one of the EMT's checking him over carefully for injuries. _

_He knew he should have been cooperative, should have held still, but it was hard to do when his father was strapped into a gurney dying right in front of him. After about five minutes of fighting with the four year old, the EMT attempted to appease him by sitting as close to Nicholas as they could get without being in the way. It did nothing to help, but by the time they had arrived, Roger had been successfully checked over for major injuries, and was set up in a room while his father was rushed to the E.R. It hadn't been even a full minute before Alison and Nina heard about this, and all but broke down the door to the room that Roger was in. _

_Being a Davies, Roger had naturally switched to exorcism mode as soon as the EMT had left him with the doctor, who was trying desperately to tend to the mildly injured boy. At the sight of his mother and sister, though, he ducked underneath the doctor's arm and hobbled over to them, calming as they both hugged him frightenedly._

Roger shuddered lightly and closed his eyes for a moment before letting all the emotion drain from his face. "That it should have been me that nearly died… That I _should_ have died instead of Dad…" he murmured, not looking at his mother. Alison hugged him tightly and shook her head mournfully, placing a kiss on top of his head. "You know that's not true, love." She murmured, tucking his head under her chin. "I dunno why Jason is the way he is, and I am sorry Roger… I am so sorry, sweetheart, but there are so many people that love you and need you to be around." She said gently. Roger nodded noncommittally and said nothing, choosing instead to distance himself from the memories and save himself the pain of remembering further. "I love you, Roger, you know that, right?" she asked after a while, pulling back to look at him. Stormy green eyes looked back at her, and she couldn't help but smiled empathetically. Roger nodded mutely and shuddered as he viciously swiped at his tears. It was unusual for him to cry so often, as it was not something that he'd ever been fond of.

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><p>In a different room of the hospital, another of the Davies children was slowly awakening from being held under by anesthetics. Striking grey eyes watched him thoughtfully, half remembering, half wondering. Nathan sat beside the bed, perched much of the same way he had been when he'd been watching over Ralph, and merely pondered as Jason stirred groggily. Nathan was so far off in thought that he did not seem to immediately take notice of when Jason woke up, for he missed the confused glance. He did not, however, miss the fact that a look of hurt colored his features for just barely a moment before it returned to the pseudo-nonchalant mask. "How are you feeling?" Nathan asked conversationally, not bothered in the least by the tension that quickly made itself palpable. Jason frowned at Nathan for a moment before attempting to sit up, cringing. "I've been better," Jason ground out, giving up after a moment and simply laying down. "But I've had worse." he sighed. Nathan nodded noncommittally. Silence fell over the two of them again and Nathan, who had not entirely left his thoughts, went back to pondering. Jason was quickly growing restless, but was too injured to do much of anything. He supposed that was why he wasn't strapped down to the bed, as per usual.<p>

"What brings you here?" Jason asked warily, pulling Nathan away from his thoughts once more. Nathan blinked innocently before shrugging and propping up an elbow on the edge of the bed, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "Just returning the sentiment." he said easily, watching with amusement as Jason frowned. "What in the hell are you talking about?" Jason sighed, bringing his hands up to gingerly rub his face. Roger may kinda short, but the little shit could sure as hell kick someone's ass when provoked. Jason grumbled a bit before looking back at Nathan, who seemed to be selecting his words carefully. "The last time that we were in the hospital," he began, watching Jason carefully. Jason flinched and looked away. "You tried to come and visit me… Didn't you?" Nathan murmured, looking distant. "I didn't know it at the time, but my mother had told the doctors not to let you see me…" he continued, frowning. "Alison said you'd come every day and beg them to let you in," he said, closing his eyes tightly. Jason was trying his best to bore a hole into the wall with his gaze, trying with everything he had not to look at Nathan. He knew exactly what would happen if he did… "I'd never been so frightened in my life." Nathan said, laughing bitterly. Nathan had always been Jason's weak spot, and they both knew it. Jason glanced over at Nathan only to be met with a heartbreakingly miserable smile, and he couldn't help the fact that he smiled back a little.

"I'm sorry, Nathan." Jason murmured, frowning deeply. Nathan offered a confused look, but let Jason continue uninterrupted. "I'm sorry for not being more careful… I'm sorry for not protecting you, for not trying harder to go and see you… I'm sorry that I never really explained afterwards," he said, the words now tumbling over his lips as he spoke. "I'm sorry for abandoning you," he mumbled. "I'm so sorry, Nathan." he said, shutting his eyes tightly as a lump formed in his throat. Nathan was silent, slightly stunned by the amount of apologies that had all been offered to him in the span thirty seconds. For a moment, he wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to say… He'd spent such a long, long time being _so _mad at Jason that he was a little thrown off kilter by all of this. It was only when Jason continued to rattle off apologies that he snapped out of it. "Jason," he said softly, shifting so that his arms were folded on top of each other on the edge of the bed. Jason went on, getting slightly more obscure as he went. "Jason." Nathan said again, frowning a bit. Still no slow in the mumblings. "I'll call the doctor." he threatened. Jason quieted, biting his lip to keep from going on, and as a reward, Nathan smiled. Jason hadn't seen him do that in years… It was nice. "I forgive you, Jason." Nathan said, holding up a hand to quiet the words that were desperately burning Jason's tongue to be spoken. "After I got out of the hospital, I was really upset and hurt because I'd honestly thought that you'd abandoned me after everything that had happened… And I never gave you a chance to explain. I'm sorry, Jason. I was so awful to you, and you never deserved that." he said, looking down at his hands.

Jason was quiet as he took this in, and nodded, offering a small smile. "I forgive you, Nathan." he murmured.

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><p>It was only after another rather uneventful hour of Ralph watching that Jack managed to drag Simon out of the room so that he could feed him. Jack knew that there was a certain level of nutrition that Simon needed in a span of several hours to be functional, and if they pressed to close to the time limit, Simon could get pretty vicious. Not that he had been particularly pleasant when Jack was carting him off, but after a few minutes he'd simmered down pretty quickly. Currently, they were walking the few blocks from the hospital towards a handful of restaurants. After rattling off several of his concerns, Simon had become surprisingly quiet, ambling along beside the stoic Merridew worriedly. In the past few days, Jack hadn't said much of anything to him, except to calm him down, and it was beginning to take its toll. Usually, Jack was never this quiet! Or at least, that's what Simon had thought… Though, reflecting back on many, many conversations with Jack, Ralph and Roger, Jack was usually listening when he wasn't arguing.<p>

This concerned Simon greatly.

Why was he so quiet? Why hadn't he noticed? What- What in the hell was he _doing_? Simon felt himself being pulled back, landing against the very solid, very real body that was Jack Merridew. A glance towards the road told him that he'd nearly walked straight into a moving car, and Simon was very painfully reminded of why his parents hd never let him go anywhere by himself as a child. "Jesus, Simon, trying to make fourth place in the injury olympics?" Jack muttered, grumbling under his breath. From his position, Simon could feel Jack's heart hammering away in his chest, and he felt a pang of guilt for making him worry. "Sorry, Jack." he mumbled, turning in his arms and burying his face in his chest. Simon held onto Jack tightly as he shut his eyes, trying to shake off the jitters that had found their way into his bones. Jack sighed, but returned the gesture, rubbing Simon's back in slow, comforting circles. "Take a deep breath," Jack instructed, somewhat put at ease when Simon did as he said without objection. "Now a couple more." he said, slowly counting backwards from ten wit each breath. They did this until Simon could manage to look at Jack, though the shorter choir boy didn't loosen his hold on the redhead. "Feel better?" Jack asked, frowning lightly. Simon simply stared at him, unblinkingly, and said nothing.

Jack wasn't sure whether he should be unnerved, or simply tack it onto the long list of Simon's quirks, but after the first five minutes he gave up and resigned himself to carrying the noirette the rest of the way.

It wasn't until they found themselves situate comfortably in a booth in the darkened corner of a rather dimly lit restaurant that Simon spoke again. "Jack," he began, looking rather small and sad. Jack frowned worriedly as he turned to him, biting his tongue for a moment. "Yeah, Simon?" Simon was quiet again as he collected his words, looking down at the table. He wanted to say something meaningful, like an apology for being so awful the past couple weeks, or an explanation of the way he felt… He wanted to tell Jack that he hadn't really meant to yell all those awful things at him, that he really hadn't meant what he said, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, what came out was another thing he knew he would regret. "You love Ralph." It wasn't a question, or an accusation, really, just a statement. The words hung in the air for a long time, Simon not looking up, Jack not looking away.

The silence confirmed it, and Simon felt the familiar stinging in his eyes that reminded him that he wanted to cry. He wanted nothing more than to curl up then and there and let all of his bitter emotions run rampant, but he didn't. He _wouldn't_. He was nearly statuesque as he let a single tear roll down his cheek, shutting his eyes and forbidding anymore from falling. It wasn't as if this was new information, anyways…

It was after a long pause and much consideration that Jack found an answer for Simon. "I do," he began, his voice taking on a gentler note than one was accustomed to normally hearing. Simon appreciated the effort, though he was silent. "But not as much as I did." he said. Simon bit his tongue harshly, trying his hardest not to feel that damned spark of curiosity and hope. He was about ready to stab jack. How _dare_ he say something like that! Who the hell did he think he was, teasing him like that? "I am sorry, Simon, for whatever pain and frustration that I caused you," he said, sighing as Simon continued to avoid his gaze. "But if you'll let me, I'd like to try and make it up to you." he finished, nonchalantly letting his gaze flicker to the menu. He could feel the glare that Simon shot at him then, not needing to look at him to know that he was having a hell of a time not leaping over the table to strangle him.

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><p>AN: That's all for now! I hope you enjoyed it!


	14. Of waking up

Of waking up

Summary: In which Ralph wakes up, and Jack kisses Simon.

A/N: My sincerest apologies for being gone for so long! I had lost all of my inspiration for this story in one fell swoop, but hopefully I am back? I will try and update at least every two weeks, at the very least. Who knows, we might get around to a weekly update! (Maybe) But thank you to those of you that reviewed! It means a lot to me, hearing from you guys. I'm so glad that you've enjoyed it thus far, and I hope you'll bear with me until the end!

Warnings: Definitely some teenage angst, some other feelings, and fluff. There will always be fluff. Not yet beta'd, but I wanted to hurry up and update 'cause it's been a really long time and I'm sorry!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Flies.

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><p>Ralph was acutely aware of three things when he slowly came into consciousness, over a week after he'd been first admitted to the care of the hospital. Firstly, there were several sets of hands touching him; brushing through his hair, holding one of his hands, and some adjusting the blankets. It would seem that this was becoming an increasingly more common thing for him to wake up to nowadays, but that did nothing to comfort him. He could only hope that the offending appendages belonged to people he knew. He scrunched up his face and wiggled his nose a bit, frowning a little as this earned soft laughter, and opened one eye. He was met with the bright, smiling face of Nina Davies, the eldest of Alison's children, and by far the calmest. She loomed over him a bit, having been checking his temperature, and had deemed him alright, grinning brilliantly at him as she sat back down.<p>

Nina Davies was a mess of long, wavy jet black hair, blindingly bright blue eyes, and what one would think were half a million freckles. Nina took after her mother in the looks department, though her height she'd gotten from her father, standing at just under six feet. Almost all of the Davies children were impossibly tall, save for little Alexander, but they suspected that the sweet, shy boy wouldn't end up much taller than their darling mother. He spent so much time with her, they suspected that it had simply rubbed off on him, not that Alison minded. It was nice, having at least one child that was moderately at eye level.

"Morning, sunshine," Nina greeted, propping her elbows upon the edge of the bed. "How're you feeling?" Ralph groaned a little, unable to force his voice to work, and Nina laughed again. After a few moments Ralph managed an, "I've been better." And sat up, successfully extracting his hand from his father's, who had been by his side since he'd exited the argument with Ralph's mother. As for who had been adjusting the sheets, Alison was sitting in the corner, looking far too innocent for Ralph to suspect it of anyone else. That made him feel at least a little better… At least it was people that he genuinely loved. After taking everything in for a moment, Ralph looked over to Nina and frowned quizzically. "Forgive me if I seem rude, but…. What are you doing here? I thought you were off at Uni." Ralph slurred, earning a few giggles. However, the question quickly sobered up everyone in the room, and Ralph knew that it couldn't possibly be good.

"Well, I came originally to see Roger and Jason, after they got into another fight…. But mum told me you were here too, so I thought I'd come see what adventure you'd been up to this time." Nina explained, frowning a little. To say that Ralph's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates would have been an understatement. One would've thought they'd be in danger of falling out of the eye sockets all together if they were any wider. "A fight?" Ralph mumbled, furrowing his brows. What had happened? What situation could they have possibly been in where they were even remotely near one another? "Yes, I'm afraid so… Physically, Jason got the short end of the stick, but emotionally…" Nina shook her head, sighing. Ralph looked back to Nina, the unasked question hanging in the air between them for a moment. "He's been under a lot of pressure lately… You just gotta give him some time, sweetheart." Nina sighed, taking Ralph's hand in her own as Ralph looked away. He felt sick to his stomach.

He knew that the added stress was because of him. If he hadn't run off like that, then Roger wouldn't have had to go and hunt him down… If he hadn't run off then neither of them would be in the hospital right now. Sure, fighting amongst Roger and Jason was inevitable, but it would have been avoided, if only for at least a little longer. It was his fault, for running off, for adding to the stress that Roger already dealt with, and for landing them both in the hospital. Ralph sunk back down into the bed, covering his head with the sheets as he curled up, feeling awful for what he'd done. He'd never wanted to hurt Roger… Especially not like this. Ralph shook with silent tears, wishing he'd been left in the attic to die. Maybe then he could stop hurting Roger…

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><p>Several days had passed, and Simon was about ready to explode. The dorm room he shared with Ralph felt so empty with only him in it... He'd assumed that Jack felt the same, because he was easily compliant when Simon asked if he'd come and bunk with him, until Ralph came back. Jack hadn't said another word about what he'd said to Simon the day that he'd taken him to dinner, nor did he make any signs of bringing it up any time soon. In fact, he seemed to be distinctly nonchalant about the whole thing. Simon didn't buy it for one second.<p>

Simon was currently lying flat on his back, scowling up at the ceiling, ignoring Jack as he entered the room. A tired greeting pierced the air, but fell upon deaf ears as Simon brooded, arms folded tightly across his chest. This was the general greeting that Jack had received over the past couple of days, but there seemed to be something bothering Simon more than usual today. So, Jack thought he'd ask… Or try. "Simon?" Jack offered, setting his belongings upon his bootlegged bed. Simon ignored him, instead huffing and rolling onto his side, grumbling at the wall. "Simon," Jack tried again, sighing a bit, rubbing his hands over his face tiredly. Again, no answer but he did get a low grumble, which was more of a response since Simon had become decidedly mute in the past few days. This, however, was going to get them nowhere if he was to be making any attempts at redeeming himself.

Jack went and perched on the bed beside him, earning a low, irritated growl of protest, though Simon made no move to look at him. He would have been lying if he'd said that this was an unusual occurrence, but he decided not to comment on it, and instead scooped Simon up from his brooding corner and sat him up. Simon looked as if he were going to throttle him any second. Jack easily ignored the glare that could have killed Rasputin and instead wrapped an arm around Simon's tiny shoulders and frowned a little in concern. "What's wrong, Simon? You've been in a state all day." He tried, watching as Simon huffily folded his arms, grumbled some more, and looked away. "Sorry, poppit, didn't quite catch that." Jack muttered, sighing. He was too tired to deal with Simon's mood swings… But he was the only one there now, and he knew he'd have to listen whether he wanted to or not. Might as well try now, while he was at least conscious, as opposed to waking up to screaming. Jack realized that Simon had actually said something as he caught the end of it, pulling away from his thoughts with, "Hm?" Simon scowled. "If you're not going to even listen to what I say, then why did you ask me to talk." He hissed coldly, earning another tired sigh from Jack. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" Jack murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple, causing Simon's face to flush bright red. "I'll listen, I promise." He continued, offering as much of a smile as he could manage.

Simon, bright as a tomato, scowled back at him, but refrained from hitting him. He looked exhausted… In the nearly two weeks since Roger and Ralph had been in the hospital, Jack had been running back and forth from school every day, bringing back and forth school work (Roger would be damned if he fell behind for simply being injured) clothing (Ralph was not a fan of the daft hospital gowns), and going to work, all while taking care of his own school work and looking after Simon as much as he would let him. Simon let his scowl ease into a frown and sighed heavily. "It's… Nothing. I'm fine." He mumbled, relaxing into Jack's embrace a bit. Jack was unappeased. "Simon," he began, but was cut off by Simon shaking his head. "You're exhausted, Jack, and it isn't important." Simon reasoned, finally looking over to him. This had been the general response when Jack had tried to be patient and sit down and make time to talk about what was upsetting Simon, and slowly it was beginning to get on his nerves. But Simon was right. Well… Half right, at least. Jack was completely exhausted, without a doubt, but he was also stubborn. Besides, he wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to put up with Simon's particular brand of psychoses all by his lonesome.

"But it is important, Simon. It's important to you… It's important to me too," Jack said, frowning. Simon could've sworn he felt his heart melt a little with how softly Jack spoke, and how genuine the words felt, but it lost its romanticism as Jack continued. "And your mood swings are almost on the verge of giving me whiplash." Simon glowered and looked away again, grumbling to himself under his breath, wondering if other people had so much trouble with these things. Jack laughed tiredly, all the same, and rubbed Simon's back a little, grinning. "C'mon, Simon, just talk to me." He pleaded, leaning back against the headboard. Simon gave a halfhearted snarl as Jack rubbed his back, but decided to appease Jack. Leaning back against the headboard as well, Simon curled into a comfortable position, fidgeting with the end of his sweater sleeve thoughtfully. As Simon thought, Jack let his eyes shut for a while, leaning his head back, knowing that this could take a while. Simon tended to organize his thoughts before letting all and sundry know just exactly what it was that had made him so snarly and what he was going to do if it was not fixed in a timely fashion.

So, it came as no surprise to him when a tentative, "Jack?" pierced the air, questioning his consciousness. "You ready?" Jack murmured, slowly opening his eyes and tilting his head forward again. Simon nodded mutely, still fidgeting with his sleeve, and snuggled closer to Jack, who made no move to protest. "So, what is it that's made you so mad, poppit?" Jack asked, arm still laced around Simon's shoulders. Simon frowned a little, looked at Jack, and then back at his sleeve. "You remember the day we went to go get food? The day I almost walked into that car…" Simon asked, mumbling that last part quickly, flushing a bit. "I recall saving you, yes." Jack grinned, earning a small glare. "What about it?" he continued, grinning. Simon sighed and rested his head against Jack's shoulder, letting his eyes glaze over, already trying to distance himself emotionally. He didn't want to have to feel the pity or regret. He refused to be taken down by such emotions, if he could help it… But little by little, his resistance was melting away. "When we were in the restraint… You said you would make it up to me, for hurting me…" Simon shook his head, looking over to Jack with a frown. "What in the bloody hell is that supposed to even mean, Jack?" he mumbled, laughing humorlessly. He was somehow reminded of Roger, and the way he simply checked out of feeling things. He was certainly stoic, if nothing else.

Jack took on a thoughtful expression, looking to the ceiling for a moment. He hummed thoughtfully, but said nothing, shrugging after a while. "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure, Simon…" he said, looking over to Simon apologetically. To say that Jack was shocked by the expression that adorned Simon's features would have been an understatement. He looked absolutely _miserable._ The light and life was completely gone from his eyes, he looked centuries older than he would ever be in this life, and his heart ache was palpable. "Simon…" Jack murmured, sitting up. Simon shifted as well, allowing Jack to pull him into his arms, making no move to protest as he was held close. This was what he'd wanted, wasn't it? All he'd ever wanted was for Jack to hold him, to care about him… But not like this. He didn't want Jack's pity, he didn't want him to feel regret for pain he'd never knew he'd caused. He didn't want him to try and force himself to love him because he felt bad for him. In yet, he couldn't bring himself to push him away. He laid there compliantly, entirely still and silent, letting Jack fret over him. For a long time, it felt as if the world had gone completely silent, and everything had slowed down to a crippling pace, but the slow, stillness was shattered as Jack shifted again.

Simon sat patiently as Jack moved, looking like a lost, lonely child as he sat wordlessly, putting as much distance as he could between himself and the pain that he feared would never go away. But it would find him… He knew it would find him, and for a moment he didn't care. He wasn't sure at what point he'd closed his eyes, but he knew that, at some point, he had as he felt the warmth of Jack's lips leave his. It took a few seconds for it to occur to Simon what had just happened, but when it hit him, a small and involuntary squeak, almost a whimper, escaped his lips. _That _was what he'd wanted for so long. Not to merely be held and cared for, but to be kissed, for once. He'd gotten so tired of being the one that did the kissing, getting nothing in return. Jack gingerly pressed the tip of his nose against Simon's, smiling a little. Simon looked surprised to say the least, all wide eyed and surprisingly innocent. For a moment Simon stared at him, slowly poking out from behind his mental safe place, and furrowed his brows for a moment.

Jack knew that as soon as Simon had wrapped his head around what he'd just done, there was a very likely chance of him either becoming blindingly mad at him, or returning to the stoic silence. However, Simon did neither, and merely smiled coyly. "Jack…?" he murmured, letting Jack lace their fingers together gently. "Yes, Simon?" Jack asked, somewhat cautiously. Simon laughed, for what felt like the first time in months, and grinned. "Kiss me."

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><p>AN: that's all for now! I hope you enjoyed it~ Leave a review and let me know what you thought? I'll hopefully have the next one up sooner than I did this one. We'll go n' visit Roger in the next one, I promise!


	15. Heartsick hospital and other adventures

Heartsick hospital and other aventures

Summary: In which Roger and Ralph have finally been released from the hospital, Simon and Roger force themselves to be civilized and Jack is emotionally perceptive.

Warnings: Language, likely, and fluff as always.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies.

A/N: FINALLY. I'm sorry I was away for such a long time, I just got really distracted by the process of getting through college applications, getting rejected (got that letter first), as well as accepted. Well, by the time that I'd run off to portfolio day, filled out three applications, stressed over letters of purpose and all but lost my mind, I found I was at a complete loss as to how to continue. So, naturally, I choose the last few days before I go off to college to sit down and write this. I've got a lot more down time this school year, though, and three days off every weekend, so I'm going to try and update either every week, or every other week. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, I know it's been a really, really long wait, and it means the world to me to have your feed back. That being said, I love hearing from you all, so always feel free to either leave me a review or message me! I'm always happy to chat. Anywho, let's get on with it, shall we? Enjoy!

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><p>Simon watched idly beside Ralph as Roger examined his truck with a searing attention to detail. During the time that he and Ralph had been hospitalized, Jack had been permitted use of the vehicle, on the condition that he pay for gas and brought Roger his homework - to which Ralph had put in a small request for a change of clothes, as the hospital gowns were uncomfortable to say the least - which Jack had done dutifully. Everything looked to be in perfect condition, exactly the way that he'd left it... But something was horribly, horribly <em>wrong. <em>It was _too _perfect, _too_ familiar. Roger wheeled around on Jack and scowled deeply. "What've you done?" he seethed. Being drugged up for two whole weeks had done nothing to improve Roger's mood, as hospitals were the bane of his existence. If anything, it only made him surlier. Jack, who was more than accustomed to this sort of thing, opened his mouth to speak, but Ralph interjected - oddly the voice of reason on this particular day.

"It hasn't changed a bit," he began, ignoring the furtive glance. "Other than a wash, possibly. I think you're still a bit grumpy from the morphine working its way out of your system." he offered. Simon seemed fairly impressed by Ralph's sound logic, while Roger looked back at the car. It was, indeed, slightly cleaner. "Excellent deduction." He said, his tone much softer than it had been. Ralph smiled a little, though it looked a bit forced on his part, and the light of it failed to reach his eyes. Jack observed this quietly and frowned, casting a glance over to Simon, who frowned as well, biting at his lower lip worryingly. Ralph had been like this for days now, though Roger hardly seemed to notice... Of course, it didn't help that he'd been sulking about more than usual himself.

They were silent as they clambered into the car, apart from Jack's, "You alright to drive, mate?" to which Roger had shot him a razor sharp glare. "Yes." was the only reply he got, but it lacked the usual conviction, which only served to worry Simon more. He supposed Jack would know what to do with him, as he was Roger's designated handler. Not by choice, of course, but because they simply abandoned Jack with the job since he had to room with the furtive creature. Ralph, on the other hand, stared glassy eyed through the windshield as they pulled out of the hospital parking lot, an air of distance about him. The drive back to the school was spent in silence, Simon worrying about Ralph, Ralph thinking off into the distance, Roger gripping the steering wheel as if it might run and Jack silently taking in all of the information.

A glance over to Simon, however, spoke volumes of the various conflicting emotions he had running about. He knew he worried for them both, but he would die before he admitted it, as the tension that hung between Simon and Roger was thick enough to cut. Simon really had gotten to him and Jack knew from experience that Roger would just hide that away in his heart for forever and a day. Offering a sad, gentle smile, Jack's hand slipped into Simon's, squeezing it gently as he whipped around to look at him. For a moment he merely stared at him, trying to decide between offense and exasperation, but he eventually gave up, too strung out to fight, and let Jack hold his hand. Inwardly, he felt his heart flutter happily, but outwardly offered only a small smile in return as thanks. It simply wouldn't due to discourage sweet nothings like this, Simon decided, as he rather liked them.

Of course, he'd die before he admitted it.

Silence reigned still as they returned to the school, trudging drearily up the stairs, through the halls, and into their respective dorms. Out of habit, Jack had nearly followed Simon to the dorm he shared with Ralph, having grown accustomed to 'keeping him company' as it were. With a sheepish smile as Simon shooed him off and a perked eyebrow from Roger, he cleared his throat in an attempt at nonchalance and headed down the hall in the direction of his own room. As they entered it was quiet for a second, safe for the sound of Roger laying on his bed, before a, "So have you shagged him yet?" pierced the air. Ever the eloquent one, Roger.

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><p>Simon watched as Ralph perched on the edge of his bed, staring out the window listlessly. He would go mad like this, he couldn't handle all the silence and dejected sighing and woeful, heartbroken ramblings. Simon sat beside him quietly, biting his lip and furrowing his brows as he hesitated, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Alright, love, what is it?" he asked gently, frowning as Ralph turned to him slowly, looking absolutely miserable. "I-It's my fault." Ralph mumbled quietly. "It's all my fault, Simon, if I hadn't..." he said, trembling as he hung his head. "I-If I hadn't run away like th-that, then..." Simon shook his head, clicking his tongue softly as he pulled the weepy blonde into a hug, rubbing his back gently. "Shhh... It's not your fault, Ralph, you couldn't help it that you got stuck." he soothed, frowning. "N-No, it is." Ralph lamented, clinging to the small choir boy. "I shouldn't have gone at all! It's all my fault." he cried, shaking his head.<p>

It carried on like this for a good couple of hours, Ralph mercilessly blaming himself, Simon trying his best to ease his troubles. It was to no avail, honestly, but after some time Ralph did wear himself out quite a bit, and instead chose to ramble, curled up, half laying against Simon as he rubbed his back soothingly. This was what Nathan walked in on, sometime later, carrying an awful, bright orange blanket. "Evening, Simon." Nathan offered, making no move to respond to the usual scowl that was offered as greeting. It would seem that both Kirkland children were too drained to really act normally, for Simon could've sworn that Ralph smiled a little at the sight of that abhorrent blanket. "Evening." Simon muttered begrudgingly after a moment, watching as Nathan draped the blanket over Ralph.

Truth be told, it had to be the worst blanket that Simon had ever set eyes on, and it was day-glow to boot. Ralph seemed happy as a clam, though, as he snuggled up in it. "How're you feeling, Ralph?" Nathan asked quietly, worry and sadness clinging to him like a leech. It had been a rough, strange few days for the Kirkland family, and it didn't look as if it were going to be getting better any time soon. "Mmm... Not so bad now," Ralph said, smiling tiredly. "But I've had better days." Simon watched Nathan like a hawk, taking in the sad smile he offered, carrying on rubbing Ralph's back as they spoke. He only had enough energy to take care of one droopy blonde. It carried on like that for a while, tired chit chat and sad smiles, before Nathan sighed heavily and hung his head. "I'm afraid I've got some bad news, Ralph." he said, not looking at him. Simon hissed in protest, glaring at him. "He hardly needs more of that, Nathan." Nathan didn't look at him, but Simon knew that his words had stung. "It's not something that can wait, I'm afraid." he sighed, shaking his head. For a long time he was silent as the grave, Ralph watching him carefully, until he eventually broke the silence, eyes closed. "They're getting a divorce, and mother wants custody of you. She wants to send you away..."

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><p>AN: That's all for now, leave me a review or message me and lemmie know what you thought!


	16. Kiss me, you fool

Kiss me, you fool

Summary; in which Simon is alone, Ralph feels sad and Roger has a stick up his ass.

Disclaimer; I do not own lord of the flies, though I am considering getting a lotf leg sleeve tattoo.

A/N; HEY KIDS. Guess who wrote a chapter while procrastinating at work ahaha. I'm sorry I was away for so long, again, but I'm working on a handful of shiny new updates! Thank you so much to everyone who left me reviews, and to Matilda384 for the lovely message of encouragement! It means a lot to me to hear form you all, so thank you thank you thank you and I hope you enjoy the update! Its super Roger/Ralph centric, but the next update will have more Jack/Simon, I promise.

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><p>The past few days had been tense, to say the least. Jack, at Roger's inquiry, had promptly walked right back out if the room with a blush that nearly rivaled the red of his hair. Simon had taken to chittering rather animatedly at Ralph about the events that had occurred while Ralph was away, to which Ralph merely smiled and nodded, trying his best to be supportive. After all, it wasn't everyday that Jack finally kissed Simon.<p>

Well, not that he was willing to admit to, at any rate. As the day stretched on, however Ralph managed to shoo Simon away so that he could sleep, but was promised an earfull once he woke up. This, of course, left Simon with little to do, and less people to talk to, seeing as Roger was still lukewarm at best when it came to interactions with Simon. Of course, it might help if Simon actually apologized to the poor boy, as Jack told him at least twice a day, but it would be easier to pull teeth from an alligator.

So, between Ralph resting, Roger's stony silence and Jack's apparent studious disappearance to the library, Simon was left with a social stalemate. He could go and see what Maurice was up to, though it would very likely be the same thing as per usual - making out with Robert. That being said, it would be just the same if he went looking for Robert. He could maybe go and talk to Bill, but frankly Simon could only handle so much of his company. That left Piggy, who would, no doubt, bore Simon to tears.

He was a nice enough boy, but if Simon had to hear the tale of Camberly one more time he was going to hit him. Repeatedly.

Not to mention that it would get Jack's knickers in a twist, and the last thing Simon needed was someone else upset with him. So, Simon decided to go with the lesser of various evils and spend his copious free time alone. It had been quite some time since he'd indulged in any amount of alone time, and he told himself it would be good to collect his thoughts before afternoon classes.

He was quiet as he walked out of the building and across the football (soccer) field, crossing over to the forest behind the school. They weren't really supposed to go in there, but nobody really noticed that Simon often did anyway, which he supposed was nice, in a way. He tread carefully through the trees, deeper and deeper until the school was a distant memory and he could no longer hear the voices if his classmates. He walked further still, into the heart of the forest, and sat down under a large tree, smiling as he watched the leaves sway in the slight breeze.

He sat there for hours, eventually falling asleep, slumped quietly beneath the gracious green boughs of the forest, but the sleep was uneasy.

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><p>A week had passed since they'd been released from the hospital, and it had been almost as long since Ralph and Roger had said a word to each other. Though, to be fair, Ralph was rather hard pressed for proper speech these days, as he'd taken to muttering anxiously. He didn't mind the divorce, in fact he was surprised that it had taken them this long to make the decision, but he didn't want to be anywhere near his mother.<p>

He wanted more than anything to run away, but running away was what got him into this mess. What got them all into it, really. It was with no small amount of courage that Ralph found himself going to perch with Roger at the edge of the wood that stretched on for ages behind their school. Roger was silent as he glanced up briefly, offering nothing more than a nod in greeting as he turned back to his book. If there was something Ralph wanted, it was only a matter of time before he brought it up.

However, it seemed that Ralph had little patience today, as he jumped right too it almost as soon as he sat down. "They're getting a divorce." Ralph said plainly, to which Roger merely hummed in response. It wasn't exactly a secret. "Mother wants to have me sent away..." He continued, pulling his knees to his chest. "I don't want to be sent away." He murmured.

"So don't go with her." Roger said simply, eyes still rolling over the page. Ralph frowned at this and shook his head. "There isn't much I can do if the court gives her custody." Ralph lamented. Roger flipped the page as he sighed, still refusing to look up. "Prove she's an unfit parent," he said. "Or run away, you're good at that." Ralph flinched at that last part, hugging his knees tighter. "Roger, I-"

"Don't." Roger hissed coolly, snapping his book shut. Ralph felt hundreds of words burning on his tongue, apologies desperate to fly off like suicide jumpers, but they were held still as Ralph bit his tongue. "Its my fault you ran off, anyway," Roger continued, laughing bitterly. "Then again, I suppose I didn't take into account the fact that you might go missing for three days after I kissed you." Apparently, Roger was still a bit miffed about that whole ordeal. Ralph felt his lips trembling and he hates himself for it, he'd done nothing but cry for nearly three weeks and he felt like a total twat. He didn't want to be upset, he had no use for it... But how could he not be? No matter what went on, Roger had /always/ been consoling, had /always/ been the person he ran to for solace, but it seems he'd overstepped his boundary.

"I'm sorry... Roger, I'm so sorry-" he tried again, but was cut off as he felt an increasingly familiar pair of lips press against his own. He was caught of kilter for a moment, but managed to return the affection just before Roger pulled away again. As he looked back at Roger, he was surprised by the stern look that had settled over his features, and he worried his lip fretfully. "Don't you dare run off." Roger said firmly, and for a moment Ralph didn't even breathe as the other stared him down.

This was what he wanted, right? To have Roger kiss him, for him to care... Hell, here he was telling him to stay, so why did Ralph still feel so frightened? Ralph's breath hitched as he felt the palm of Roger's hand against his cheek, cold as ever, and shut his eyes as he leaned into the touch. "I'm sorry." Ralph mumbled, shifting to get up and bail yet again as he pulled away. But Roger was much faster than Ralph, and stronger to boot, so it was with practiced ease that he pinned him down. "Stop trying to run from me." He breathed, furrowing his brows as he stared down at Ralph. "Or make up your mind."

The seconds ticked by as Ralph stared up at him, wide eyed, revelling in the fact that their faces were barely inches apart, but still he said nothing. What was there to say? He couldn't run from everything, and he was already too tired to try and run forever... So, for the first time, Ralph let his guard down, and leaned up to kiss Roger tentatively. Of course, it didn't stay that way for long, as Roger pressed their lips together firmly as he returned the kiss, but Ralph didn't mind. Instead, he simply pulled him closer as his arms were released, looping them loosely around Roger's neck. He couldn't run forever, and as of now, he didn't want to.

"Good choice." Roger said after a moment, making Ralph laugh as they pulled apart just barely, their lips still close enough to brush. "The best choice." Ralph murmured, nudging their lips together again.

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><p>AN; eeeeee that's all for now! Level me a review or shoot me a pm and lemmie know what you thought?


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